Meybe Someday
by bambu1101
Summary: Rachel, working for a music magazine, is in a crisis before her team goes to New Orleans to cover New Directions and Mardi Gras since the photographer had a car accident. The guy batting for him is the one who walked away from her without giving her any reasons about a year ago. AU Finchel
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my second Finchel story. I've got some ideas of this story in which Rachel is a music magazine editor working for Sue Sylvester's publishing company and Finn is a freelance photographer. And finally I decided which plot I should use for this story. I know paper publication/photography workflow and vocabulary of my country and in my mother tongue, but not enough of the US and in English. So, I believe there will be wrong and unrealistic use of terms and all mistakes are mine. The story is not related to the novel which I've never read, but I like the song of Griffin Peterson, which is beautiful lyrically and musically I think, and its lyrics have something in common with my story (the lyrics of Nickelback "Someday" too). That's why I titled "Maybe Someday" for this story, which I believe that you figure it out that I titled afterwards. Anyway, I hope you guys will enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its character.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1 – January 2012<strong>

"We have bad news." Were Will's first words when he walked into the meeting room. _The Musicraker_'s editor in chief looked over his team as he plumped himself down on the chair before announcing. "Matt had a car accident. We need to find someone to take his place in three days."

"When did it happen?" Artie asked. "How bad is he?"

"Last night, on his way home on his bike, hit by some intoxicated driver." Will informed the art director of the details of the accident. "Femur fracture, shoulder dislocation, three months in hospital."

Rachel shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. This was not happening. This was the first big assign for her since she got promoted to a senior editor. She had been prepared for this with Matt, Artie, Blaine and Mercedes for months. How could they manage to find someone who could _know_ photography, let alone cameras, you know, not digital ones, 35mm or medium format or large format ones like Matt Rutherford in three days! So many photographers had tried to impress them bringing and showing their portfolios, but it was really difficult to find someone who exceled in the ancient equipment, technically and artistically, in the time of digital technology's predominance.

_The Musicraker_ was one of the magazines which were swimming against the tide of the times; many publishing companies terminated paper publications for complete shift to digital publishing. Yes, _The Musicraker_ had its own website, twitter or facebook or any other sns accounts, but Sylvester Publishing proudly continued circulating paper publications except for _Athlester_ (Sylvester's sports digital magazine), and they used photographers who could work with manual settings for _The Musicraker_.

Rachel and Mercedes were in charge for a special issue featuring articles on _New Directions_, who were one of the legendary groups of New Orleans Jazz, and her team was going to New Orleans next week, which they had already accommodated interview and shooting schedule to Mardi Gras.

Rachel fell flat on her face, not able to deal with her biggest and worst crisis.

"Well, it happens, Rachel." Blaine, the senior writer, patted her on the shoulder, trying to encourage.

Mercedes, one of Rachel's best friends and the senior editor, gazed up to the ceiling. "Yeah, it does. But I don't think anyone could fill in for Matt." She sighed, shaking her head. "And I don't think we could find another photographer before the week is out either."

"But we have to anyway." Blaine murmured.

Will clapped his hands to get their attention. "Alright, why don't we get _Athlester_ or _Survêtement_ to help?"

"I don't think so." Rachel shook her head, looking at her boss with pessimistic eyes. "Fashion Week starts in two weeks or so," she remembered Tina, another one of her best friends and the senior editor of Sylvester's fashion magazine, _Survêtement,_ had mentioned, "and Super Bowl comes in next week." Which also Tina told her since the Asian's boyfriend was a senior writer of _Athlester_. "I don't think anyone eligible or decent is available."

Will scratched his head before letting out a sigh. "Then let's take a fresh look at the photographers who have plugged themselves for hire." He suggested before pressing his secretary's extension number. "Marley, could you bring five copies of the list I've asked you to make this morning?"

After Marley brought five copies of the list as she was instructed, all five of them in the meeting room started examining the list then discussing as to which one could possibly cover for Matt. The progress to have been made, however, was only the hands of time not their discussion. It had been almost four hours since the editor in chief first opened his mouth.

"I don't want to make you guys take work home, but," Will glanced at the clock on the wall before stretching out his upper body on the chair, "ask someone, anyone who possibly knows photographers who can at least operate 35mm and normal lens, then pick one or two up by tomorrow's lunch meeting."

"What if we couldn't find anyone?" Mercedes cautiously asked.

"Rachel," Will sifted his gaze at the tiny brunette, "you have some experiences in taking pictures with manual focus cameras, right?"

"No, no, no, no, no." Rachel waved her hand in front of her nose frantically, not liking where this was going to. "I just have _knowledge_ in them. Why do you think I became editor not photographer, Will? Do you know my rangefinder is a kind of white elephant since my dominant eye is left?"

"I didn't ask you to use your keepsake from your grandfather, Rachel." Will insisted. "You have a keen appreciation for photography."

"Will," Rachel started, sighing, "there is a huge difference between having an eye for photography and having an eye for capturing unbeatable moments with his or her own way." She explained, trying hardest to shirk Matt's filler. "We'd better go look for someone amongst NYU stu–"

"Wait," Artie interrupted, "there was the guy who had an interview a little while ago? A year ago or so?" He tilted his head to one side before turning his head towards Rachel. "What was his name? Didn't you say he was real good, do you?"

Rachel pursed up her lips, closing her eyes, not wanting to dredge up things from the past.

"Artie!" Mercedes shushed, shaking her head to imply that he'd better _not_ touch on the guy who he just had mentioned as Blaine nodded agreeing with the African American editor.

Artie raised his eyebrow, throwing a quizzical glance at Will.

Will cleared his throat, knowing that the guy Artie just mentioned had disappeared from New York City a little while after the company's party on New Year's Eve in 2010. "Well, that's not bad idea you guys go to NYU to find someone to fill in for Matt." He stood up from the chair to call it a day before walking out of the room.

Artie yanked Blaine's arm as he got out of the meeting room, whispering in his coworker's ear. "What was that? Did I hit on her sore spot?"

"Yeah, you did." Blaine answered in a low voice, over his shoulder looking at Rachel, who was still sitting on the chair, her head in her hands, Mercedes rubbing her arm up and down whispering something to her. "But you didn't know what'd happened to him or her." He sifted his gaze towards Artie. "Hell, I don't know exactly what happened between them either." He patted the guy with suspenders on the back as they walked down the corridor to be back to their cubicles before changing the subject. "Hey, don't you want to go visit Matt at the hospital with me now? He might know someone who is like Matt."

"Yeah, right," Artie nodded, "let's go."

* * *

><p>"It never hurts to ask." Mercedes dragged Rachel into <em>Figgins' bar<em>, where Tina and the others who worked at Sylvester Publishing always grabbed a drink after work.

"Whoa, whoa, Rachel. The bar's animal sweater free zone." The Mohawk, the owner at (not of) the bar, shouted from behind the counter pointing to a patch of paper on the shelf behind him where glasses were neatly deposited as he saw his cousin peeling her coat off from her body walking into the bar. All he earned, however, was her sharp glare, which caused him to frown. "Why is she so cranky?" He asked to the woman tangling her arm with Rachel's.

"Amaretto sour, virgin." Rachel ordered before Mercedes could answer but immediately amended. "No, El Diablo."

Puck arched his eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"I pay, you tend, just get me my drink, Noah!" Rachel yelled at the Mohawk cousin, who held up his hands in the air without saying anything and turned around to grab his shaker. Then she snatched her glass and slammed down her 15 dollar bill onto the wooden counter when he put it in front of her before turning on her heel to look for her coworkers from the other divisions.

"What was that?" Puck said petulantly, folding his arms across his chest.

Mercedes just shrugged at Puck and grabbed her drink before following the tiny brunette.

"Rachel! Mer!" Tina called out from the entrance with a waving hand as _The Musicraker_ senior editors was about to sat at table after they asked around but got nowhere. "Why the glum faces, guys?" She asked, sitting on a high chair to join them.

"Matt had a car accident." Rachel mumbled, massaging her temple with her two fingers. "Now we need to find another in three days! No actually in two days! That's impossible!" She held her hands up in the air dramatically before burying her face in them. "What are we supposed to do without him?" Her shoulders slumped down before she peeked at the Asian through her fingers and asked hopelessly. "You happen to have more staff than you need?"

"I'm sorry, but no." Tina answered sympathetically. "I told you that we were short-handed because of Fashion Week. Oh," she raised her voice as she saw a guy, who wore a black cashmere coat with a big feather on the shoulder over a tight fitted black suit, purple shirt, fur Cossack hat and lace-up boots, looking around at the entrance, "Kurt!" She called out to him with a waving hand. When he joined them, she began introducing him to her best friends. "Rachel, Mer, this is Kurt Hummel, the one who our devil in tracksuits proselytized from _Harper's BAZAAR_."

Kurt did a double take in horror when his eyes were offended by an owl sweater the brunette named Rachel wore, but soon he composed himself, clearing his throat, taking their hands respectively. "Pleased to be acquainted with you two."

Tina, assuring the new guy took a high chair, opened her mouth to resume the conversation which the three girls had had before Kurt's appearing. "Have you asked the _Athlester_'s guys?"

Rachel shook her head. "Yeah, but, you know, they work only with digital still photojournalists. So, span our wheels." She shrugged.

"What are you guys talking about?" Kurt interrupted with a questioningly look as Tina made her way to the bar counter to get her and Kurt's drinks, and Rachel's and Mercedes's another rounds.

Mercedes briefed him on their crisis before asking. "Do you happen to know someone? Working for _Harper's BAZAAR_? Or other fashion magazines?"

Kurt tilted his head to one side, his fist underneath his jaw. "Hmm, I'm afraid but I don't think so." Then he lightened up a little, straightening up on the high chair. "My brother's a photographer. He's drifted from place to place in Europe for a year, but he finally returned home yesterday." He pulled out his cell phone out of his pocket.

Rachel and Mercedes exchanged an expectant glance. "What is the brand of his equipment?" The brunette asked. "Dose he use manual focus?"

"Ah, yeah, I believe so, I don't know which brand he uses though." Kurt paused, looking up from his phone, stopping himself from texting. "He sold most of them a year ago, replacing by buying digital ones, for some reasons. But I know he has some which he can never sell. And he's really good, if I might add."

Rachel shrieked, jumping out of her chair, clapping her hands before giving the new senior editor of Sylvester's fashion magazine a tight hug. "You're a lifesaver, Kurt!"

Kurt flinched, sporting a horrified look on his face as if her owl sweater were infectious viruses or something when Rachel held him tightly.

"Could you," Mercedes cleared her throat, trying to distract him from her best friend sweater, "um, could you tell him to come over to our office tomorrow morning?"

"9am, sharp." Rachel added, stepping back from Kurt. "With his portfolio."

"What are you guys so excited about?" Tina asked from behind with an amused look, holding four glasses of cocktail in her both hands.

"Kurt's brother!" Rachel beamed at Tina. "He's a photographer, you know, a real one, who uses manual focus."

"That's great!" Tina deposited the glasses on the table before turning her head towards Kurt. "What's his name?"

"Finn," Kurt answered, "Finn Hudson."

* * *

><p>"No, I'm not going to go in there!" Rachel shrugged off the African American woman's hand from his arm.<p>

"Then why are you wearing your nicest and sexiest attire which you've never put on for work?" Mercedes stepped back from her, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, her arm crossing.

"Because," Rachel tucked a pile of her hair behind her ear, straightening up on her chair, "because I can." He voice deflated a little.

"Even if you don't go in there today," Mercedes started, "you'll have to see him again soon or later anyway." She waited for her colleague's answer.

"I'm not sure he'll show up as he promised." Rachel mumbled sarcastically after an eternal silence. "Besides," she cleared her throat, "undecided to hire him to cover for Matt yet. Or we don't know he'll take our offer."

"Rachel," Mercedes sighed, "I know you are hurt, but we have no choice." She put her hand on the brunette's shoulder. "He could possibly turn down our offer though."

"Okay, hire him, but," Rachel let out a breath, "I'm not going to go in there." She sifted her gaze from her the woman with a big bling around her neck to her own hands on her desk. "I've saw his work enough, so it's no necessary to take a look at it again." She murmured.

"Alright," Mercedes said, having had it, "I'll leave you alone, _for now_." With that, she walked away from the stubborn girl's cubicle.

Rachel placed her head on her desk, trying hardest to _not_ remember the day she experienced the worst heartbroken ever.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_**Survêtement**_** is 'tracksuit' in French, which name I know is absolutely not for fashion magazine. I could hear Kurt yelling at me. :P**

**Please reviews :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and sending reviews! This chapter is going to tell a part of Finchel's past.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 – December 2010<strong>

"_Mr. Schuester?" Marley peeked into the office of the editor in chief, lightly knocking on the large framed oak door before informing. "Ms. Sylvester wants to see you."_

_Will perked up his head, stopping himself from talking with his most reliable editor, and his gaze sifted from the petite brunette to the doorway. "Now?" He saw his secretary nodding. "I'll be back in a minute, Rachel." He excused himself as he stood up from his chair and walked over towards the doorway where the young woman still was standing._

"_You hope." Rachel smirked at her boss, looking at him over her shoulder._

"_That's not funny." Will pointed his forefinger to her, before shaking his head and heading for Sue's office or whenever the company owner was._

_After her boss left, Rachel resumed flipping through a portfolio which some guy brought with him in the middle of the company's Christmas party. She got bummed out at first when Will summoned her to his office. She, however, totally forgot her upset state the second she opened the big black case of a portfolio. This guy was a real one. She thought. She continued examining one by one with strained eyes, not realizing that someone's footsteps bellied up to Mr. Schuester's office._

"_Working on Xmas Eve?"_

"_Hmm." Rachel, who wore a dark cherry colored sleeveless dress for the party, answered absentmindedly, not bothering to turn around her head towards the direction where the voice came from, since she hardly could tear her eyes off from the pictures in front of her. "This guy's very talented." She mumbled, letting out a sigh in admiration._

"_Oh, really? How so?"_

"_Because," Rachel finally tore her eyes from the portfolio and span around her body towards the doorway, guessing the guy who had spoken to her was still there, "I th–" She widened her eyes, stopping in mid-sentence as she saw a tall (huge, more precisely), handsome guy, who wore a pair of black jeans, dark blue blazer over a white V-neck T-shirt, standing at the doorway with a lopsided smile around his lips, which she believed made her heart almost stop (or beat faster)._

_The giant guy, who she assumed was her same age, approached her, still wearing a lopsided grin on his face, before asking again. "How do you know that guy's talented?" He jutted his chin in the direction of the big black case on the desk, dragging a chair from the corner of the room to beside her and sat on it. "Could you explain? For me?"_

_Rachel, whose eyes had glued on every move he'd made, snapped out, clearing her throat. "I'm sorry," she shook her head to get herself back to the earth, "Are you new here?"_

"_I hope so." He shrugged. "Finn Hudson, by the way." He offered his hand to shake for her._

"_Rachel," she took it, not tearing her gaze from his amber eyes, "Rachel Berry."_

"_So?" Finn arched his eyebrow, still holding her hand in his. "How do you know?"_

_Rachel reluctantly tore her hand from his, turned her face back to the black case, putting her hands on her laps slowly, wishing him not aware of her nervousness. "Because," She took a pause, "I'm talented too. I mean," she immediately added, "as an editor."_

_Finn chuckled. "Alright," he put his elbow on the desk, cupping his face with his large hand, "prove it then." He challenged, smirking._

"_Well," Rachel tucked a pile of her hair behind her ear, "when I had an interview to get a job here, the company owner asked me to describe every picture she was going to show me with three words. So, I'm going to follow her method."_

_Finn nodded, encouraging her to go on._

"_Okay. This one," she pointed to a black and white photograph in which a middle aged woman was sitting at table (maybe in the dining room, Rachel assumed), holding up a mug to her mouth in her both hands, shyly but fondly smiling at the camera, which she believed that it was taken by a medium format camera judging by the size of printing paper and the image quality, "love or loved, trust, and proud." She turned to face the guy named Finn, beaming. "I assume the woman in this picture is this guy's mother." She declared confidently._

"_How do you know?" Impressed, Finn raised his eyebrow._

"_This guy, I don't know who he is or what his name is, because my boss left here before mentioning his name," Rachel started, "knows what he does with cameras and his pictures tell exactly what he wants to tell." She saw the tall guy next to her listening intently, so she went on. "Look at her expression on the face." She broke into beaming as she gently traced the women's eyes and cheek with her forefinger. "You can see that she looks into the guy's eyes through the lens with her maternal, unconditional love, and also you can see the guy gives the same kind of love back to her." She faced him with a big smile. "I think I love this picture the most."_

"_Wow," was all Finn could say, at a loss for words because of her observant eye and her beautiful smile._

"_This guy's really interesting." Rachel continued as she slowly returned her attention back to the portfolio, wanting the new (potentially) guy for the magazine to know how gifted the photographer was (and how gifted she was too, you know, to impress him). "I think he uses black and white for himself, you know, like, when he wants to engrave the moments in his heart personally, even if the person, the object in a picture were not his family or relatives or friends, you know, not the people who are close to him, because every picture in black and white speaks fluently the moment, the conversation or the interaction between the photographer and the object." She flipped through the portfolio._

"_But," Rachel pointed to one of the color pictures, "he more focuses on objects when he uses color films, which are as impressive as his black and white pictures are, if I might add. I believe he likes to use reversal films specifically and develop them after into internegative, I don't know which developer he usually accesses to or maybe he develops by himself, they are really unique and sensational. I think my boss would like him to use color films for our magazine if he hire him–," she paused, realizing she got carried away a little bit. She blushed at herself, sheepishly glancing at the messy haired guy, who was staring at her with a lopsided grin whole time. "Sorry." She said in a low voice._

"_No, no, don't be," Finn chuckled, "I'm really enjoying your speech." He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. "So, what would you like to describe this with three words?" He pointed to a color picture in which the band he knew from his high school was posing around a teeter at the Lima Park._

"_Um," Rachel pursed her lips for a moment before answering, "from the photographer's point of view, friendship, anticipation, and respect." She looked up at Finn before completing her answer. "And their expression is telling, hope, ambition, and appreciation."_

"_Ha!" Finn sat back on the chair, looking up at the ceiling, wondering if there was anybody who could see through his mind or what he wanted to tell through the lens more than the beautiful girl with big brown eyes next to him did._

"_I'm," Rachel bit her bottom lip with her embarrassment, "I really am sorry, my coworkers are always complaining I talk too much." She cast down her eyes. "Um," she cleared her throat as she faced him, "what position did you apply–"_

"_Sorry, Rachel," Will rushed into his office, interrupting for her to finish the sentence. "Oh, hey, Finn." He greeted as he circled his desk to sit down on his chair. "I assume you've already introduced each other." He looked at his editor. "Don't you think his work really is impressive?"_

_Rachel widened her eyes with surely realization. "W-what?" She choked. Embarrassed at herself who had speechified in front of his face, she was sure that her face got dyed by a deep shade of red matching her dress. "I-um," Shaky on her legs, she staggered a little when she stood up from the chair, which ended up furthering her embarrassment more, "I need to powder my nose, so excuse me." Without waiting for her boss's answer, she ran away from the room at a trot, leaving her boss sporting a bemused look on his face and the photographer chuckling._

* * *

><p><em>Rachel couldn't bring herself to return Will's office after having composed herself in the bathroom for approximately 12 minutes. So she made a beeline for the party floor and walked over towards the bar counter, on tiptoe <em>without_ particular reason. She took a glass of red wine from a bartender and sipped it with her back turned from the floor where a lot of people were mingling with others._

"_You never came back."_

_Startled, Rachel jumped up a little at the place before slowly turning around to face the person who she positively knew was the same guy who had been sitting next to her in her boss's office. "Hello again, Finn." She sipped her wine, glancing at him through her eyelashes._

_Finn looked down at her with a grin before facing the bartender to get himself a drink._

_Rachel cleared her throat to get his attention. "I really didn't mean to critique your work high-and-mighty, you know, before your very eyes. I really am sorry if you feel offended or upset or–"_

"_Rachel, it's alright." Finn cut her rambling off, leaning against the counter, glancing down at her. "As I said, I really was enjoying your speech." He sipped his beer._

"_Wait," Rachel, put down her glass on the counter and turned to face him, her arms crossing, her eyes forming into a slit, "did you make fun of me? You know, I do not like people to make fun of me." Her hands moved onto her hips. "You should've given me your name first!"_

"_No!" Flustered, Finn defended. "I didn't make fun of you! I honestly enjoyed, you know, you amazed me. You have a sharp eye. It's kinda scary though, because," he rubbed the back of his neck, his voice deflated a little, "as if you read my mind." Then he looked into her eyes before apologizing sincerely, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you."_

"_Alright," Rachel held her hand out for him to shake, "let's call a truce."_

_Finn let out a relieved sigh and took her tiny hand in his large one. "Truce."_

"_So," Rachel took her glass from the counter before asking, "did you get a job?"_

"_Yeah," Finn nodded with a grin._

"_That's great! Congratulations!" Rachel clinked her glass with his beer bottle, her eyes lightened up. "When do you start?"_

"_From April issue." Finn informed._

"_Are you working for any other magazines?" Rachel asked._

"_No, I'm not." Finn answered. "_The Musicraker_ is the first for me to work for."_

_Rachel learnt that he had moved to New York a month before from Lima, Ohio, where he was born and raised, and after college graduation he had worked at a photo studio in Columbus while taking pictures in his spare time to keep holding his dream._

"_Your brother was working at Harper's BAZAAR, right?" Rachel started, taking another glass of wine from the bartender. "You could've worked for fashion magazines."_

"_Fashion is not my thing," Finn shook his head. "Portrait, that's what I do. And music."_

"_Still, you could've gotten a job to take portrait photographs of musicians or actors even if it was for a fashion magazine." Rachel pointed out._

"_Yeah," Finn agreed, "but," he continued, "there're few you really want to work for, I mean, unlike _The Musicraker_, most of magazines don't appreciate the value of manual settings anymore. You know what I mean?"_

"_Oh, yeah, totally." Rachel nodded firmly. "That's exactly why I joined _The Musicraker_."_

"_Yeah, you speech in Mr. Schuester's office explains a lot." Finn chuckled._

_Rachel gently nudged his arm with her elbow, her face blushing, "don't remind me of that."_

"_You're right." Finn blurted out after exchanging laughter._

"_What?"_

"_That was my mother." He turned his head towards her before smiling down at her. "And that's my favorite too."_

_Rachel beamed at him, "I told you I'm talented."_

"_Or," Finn paused, "you're a little psychic." He deadpanned._

"_You can say that." Rachel agreed matte-of-factly before leaning closer to his large frame whispering. "I've never told anybody this before, but I do have a sixth sense."_

_Finn arched his eyebrow in amusement. "Then tell me, what do you see now?"_

"_I can see," Rachel put her forefinger on her chin, "you'll have your own exhibition someday."_

_Finn blinked a few times. "You can see that?"_

"_Why not?" Rachel shrugged. "You're very talented. Of course you can do it."_

_Finn's heart beat got faster. "You think so?"_

"_No," Rachel saw his face fall a little before quickly adding, "I believe so." She reached out her hand to hold his unconsciously and squeezed giving him a reassuring smile._

"_Thanks." Finn squeezed her hand back and stared at her big brown eyes for a while._

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and sending reviews! As one of the reviewers indicated, I'm aware that I need someone to beta my story. I'm still a fanfic beginner and feeling my way around. So it'll take time to find one, but I'm willingly going to do so. Until then, I hope you guys bear with my writing skill.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 – February 2012<strong>

"Meeting at Louis XVI in thirty minutes." Rachel announced as soon as her team arrived at Hotel Mazarin and got out of the passenger van which they had picked up from Avis at Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport.

If Rachel was allowed, she had rather avoided seeing Finn (again) at the office as much as possible on last Friday. She, however, was in charge of the special issue which she desperately wanted to be perfect, that was to say, every single plan her team and Matt had discussed and worked out was needed to be drummed into his head, especially since he wasn't on their location hunt.

So she gave in to joining the meeting last week, telling herself repeatedly as if she cast a spell on herself; she was a professional. It was not big of a deal. He was just a guy who once had swept her off her feet with a sweet talk just for one night stand (kind of, but whatever). That was why not only had he ever showed up at her apartment that day, but had not bothered to call her, and just disappeared, which meant he was _that_ kind of guy after all, even though she couldn't believe he would be in the tiny part of the back of her mind. Besides, she was now a 28 year old, strong, independent woman. It was a little over a year ago. All she had to do was just pretending nothing had happened. It would be okay then. _Come on, you could do that, Rachel!_

"Rachel!"

"Huh?" She snapped out of her thoughts as her editorial assistant, who had already finished putting up the enlarged flatplan on the white board in the hotel facility, called her name.

"Everybody's here." The blonde girl in ponytail informed as she took a seat next to Mercedes.

Rachel looked over the meeting room which were _the Musicraker_ reserved for a fortnight before clearing her throat. "Thanks, Kitty." She slowly stood up from her chair. "Okay, um," she started, looking down at her blight pink binder on the table, "fortunately, Mr. White generously allowed us to take a second look at his house before shooting of the day after tomorrow." Her gaze shifted from the binder to the art director, avoiding looking at the tallest guy beside the guy with the glasses. "So, Artie, take him and Ryder around every location we're going to have a photo shoot."

"Do I have to bring all the items to shoot with me?" The young photo assistant asked, holding his hand up in the air.

"No, but just in case, our Nikon D3 and–" Rachel was about to tell the assistant which items exactly he should bring as her cell phone went off. She excused herself to answer the phone, noticing that the name on the screen was the producer of _New Directions_. "Hello, Mr. White, how are you?" She greeted.

A few minutes later, she put her phone down on the table before informing the staff of what she had gotten from the producer. "Mr. White offered to take us to Lower Ninth Ward tomorrow if we like to."

_New Directions_ used to do home recording at their uncle, Lee White's house where had been in Lower Ninth Ward. The house, however, was completely ruined by Hurricane Katrina, which forced them to evacuate from there—notwithstanding that it was about six years and a half ago, there still were a lot of traces of the damage caused by Katrina, and their home studio remained destroyed which caused Mr. White to set up a new home studio at the boundary of the French Quarter and Eastern New Orleans. The article Blaine was going to write would include this story, but no photos of their original home studio.

"How many rolls of reversal do you need me to carry?" Ryder asked in a low voice, leaning closer to his photographer, sensing that Rachel was going to squeeze an extra photo shoot into their schedule.

"Not color, black and–"

"I think black and white–"

Widening their eyes, all the staff in the meeting room looked at the tiniest woman and the tallest guy respectively as they spoke of the same thing in unison.

Rachel cleared her throat, ignoring Mercedes' smirk and Blaine's amused look, before turning around to the white board and letting out a deep breath. "I think this," she pointed to the page 30, "could be replaced by a black and white picture of their original studio and its surroundings, or" she popped the cap off a red Sharpie and drew a square on the pages 30 and 31, "it should be a double page spread on top half." She took a pause, closing eyes, before facing the rest of the staff. "Blaine, I know you already have some article structure in your mind, but please prepare yourself that it would be required a small revision."

About thirty minutes later, Rachel announced they should be in the hotel lobby at 8am next morning before dismissing the staff.

"Well, that was interesting." Her African American of a friend threw a meaningful look at the brunette, folding her arms across her chest.

Rachel pulled a face. "There was nothing interesting, Mer." She began gathering her stuff from the table as she changed the subject. "Where do you think it is good to feed us tonight? Travel Team recommended The Half Shell, which we can walk to from here." She suggested. "Why don't we check up on there and make a reservation for eight."

Mercedes narrowed her eyes, thinking that Kitty was the one to arrange for them to have dinner, but soon shrugged off and just agreed. "Okay."

* * *

><p>Thanks to the jam packed schedule in the first week in New Orleans, Rachel didn't have time to have a talk (or be alone) with Finn other than when she needed to. And when she needed to talk with him, she narrowly managed to <em>not<em> get emotional since she forced Mercedes to tag along with her when it was necessary.

The team currently was at the corner in _McKinley's Jazz Club_, which was one of famous Jazz clubs situated in a historic building in the French Quarter and where _New Directions_ performed live once a week regularly. The club was not so big, but not so small. There were so many posters or photographs of musicians on all the walls covered with grayish yellow plaster, which she could imagine used to be more bright color. The floor was almost packed with a bunch of the local residents and tourists, who were anxious to wait for the band to hit the first note.

Rachel looked down at a sample copy where the digital stills they and Matt had taken on their location hunt were patched up. She slowly shifted her gaze over the stage wing, where Finn was chatting with Allan, the piano man of _New Directions_, and Ryder was carrying out the final check on the amount of light with his exposure meter.

When she was about to look down at the copy in her hands again, the corner of her eye captured Finn's gaze towards her. With a hint of a smile on his lips, he held up a film box of ILFORD DELTA 3200 in one hand, the page 52 and 53 in his copy of the flatplan in the other hand, asking for her approval. Then he flipped to the previous pages and picked up another film box which was Fujichrome Provia 400X. She just nodded to approve, not bothering to smile back at him.

She had been annoyed a little bit with him, since he seemed to not be going to even make an excuse for what he had done to her (okay, that might have been a bit of her fault because he seemed intimidated by her demeanor, which she had been so determined to allow him no chance to do so). What, however, annoyed her more was the fact that she thought of the same thing as he did—black and white would be fitting for the page 52 and 53.

Rachel snapped out of her thoughts when the audience broke out cheering as '_I Never Knew What A Girl Could Do'_ started. Despite herself, she followed every move the photographer was making.

The more you worked as an editor, the better you assessed whether a photographer was good or not, how well the photographs would be turned out, and sometimes even who he (or she) was like, just by seeing the way he moved; how close he could get to subjects of a picture, how to communicate with them, or how and when to click the shutter.

From her experiences, Finn Hudson definitely was a natural, and one of a few (or you could say that there was none other than him) as to what exactly she _knew_ he wanted to tell through the lens. And from his works, she had thought he must have been so sincere and generous.

For those reasons, she still couldn't understand why he just disappeared without saying anything to her. Who was she kidding? Who would tell the reason of hump and dump? And who would want to hear that kind of reasons?

Rachel sighed as she noticed that Aaron began to sing '_All of Me'_ along with a lilting tune.

**Yes, all of me, why not take all of me, baby**

**Yes, can't you see? I'm no good without you**

**Take my arms, I'll never use them**

**Take my lips, I want to lose them**

**Your goodbye left me with eyes that cry**

**How can I go on dear without you?**

**You took the part that once was my heart**

**Why not take all of me** (*)

Even though the sound was upbeat, the lyrics got her down and she relapsed into self-doubt which had been a distress to her as an editor and a woman for a while after his disappearing. She thought that the man or woman who got dumped in this song hadn't been able to see worse than herself since he or she at least got a goodbye.

"Ms. Berry," Mr. White held his hand to her. "May I have this dance with you?"

"I'm not a good dancer, Lee." Rachel hesitated. "Besides, I don't know how with this song."

"Don't be shy. Nobody cares you don't know how. Look at them," Mr. White nodded at the floor where some of the people got out of their chairs and started swaying, "everybody's dancing on their own way." He took her binder from her and handed it out to the blonde girl beside her before twirling her. "You know, my wife's always complaining my dance move and singing a parody of this song—_Can't you see? I'm so good without you_–" He began to sing along with the performance of _New Directions_, "_Don't step on my feet, You'll be never in using'em discreet_," he laughed a little, "then I step on her feet because she is so distracting me!" He twirled her once more. "Oops, I did it to you too. Sorry." He apologized, stepping out of her feet.

"It's alright." Rachel giggled. "Does she have a repertoire of parodies?"

"Oh, yeah," Mr. White nodded, swaying themselves. "She makes every song with lyrics a parody." He looked down at her. "You finally smiled."

"Huh?" Rachel perked her head up.

"You seemed dismal before." Mr. White stated as the next song _'Bright Mississippi'_ started and he began to lead her to take a step properly. "You start with your right foot forward. Right, left, triple step, one, two–" He put his right hand on her back and guided her left hand on his right shoulder. "And turn at three and four." He kept teaching her the basic Lindy Hop before asking casually. "Did you fight with your boyfriend?"

Rachel almost failed to hear what Mr. White was asking since she was totally absorbed in mirroring his move. "W-what? My boyfriend?" She stammered.

"That photographer." He nodded towards the man looking into a viewfinder at the corner of the floor.

"Oh, no, no, he's not my boyfriend." Rachel cast down her eyes, biting her bottom lip, as her face slightly blushed.

Mr. White raised his eyebrow before shrugging. "Well, he likes you then." He decided.

"I don't think so." Rachel dismissed his idea in a low voice.

"But he was stealing wistful glances at you when not taking pictures, you know." Mr. White grinned at her. "He did it in Lower Ninth Ward, and at our studio, too."

"He just asked for my approval." Rachel interrupted before he could finish, nodding as if she convinced herself.

"Don't you like him?" Mr. White pressed as they continued swinging. He, however, dropped the subject since she opened her mouth to protest, but closed it before letting out a sigh. "Alright, I'm not gonna poke my nose into your business. But smile in rain or sunshine, young lady, or it'll spoil your pretty face."

All she could do was to give him a pensive smile.

* * *

><p>"Well done, guys." Mercedes appreciated the team's efforts when they arrived at the hotel, while Rachel was taking the phone call from their editor in chief. "You all must be worn out. Tomorrow is the day off, so have a good rest in the lead up to covering Mardi Gras from the day after tomorrow!"<p>

Rachel sighed after hanging up the phone before calling the staff to stop from going back to their rooms. "Sorry, guys. I have a word with you all, so meet me at Louis XVI after putting down all luggage in your room."

"Isn't there anything we need to bring to the meeting?" Ryder asked as he held up his hand in the air.

"No, you don't need anything." Rachel assured.

"What's going on?" Mercedes, who decided not to return to her room, whispered in Rachel's ear, tangling an arm with hers. "What did Will say?"

"It's been a long time coming." Rachel let out a sigh, dropping her shoulders, leaning her head on her best friend's shoulder.

"Oh." Mercedes perceived as they made their way towards Louis XVI.

The staff walked into the meeting room one by one about ten minutes later. Everyone wore an uneasy expression on their faces.

Rachel looked around the staff and took a deep breath before announcing. "Will is going to officially make an announcement when we are back to the City, but I'll let you know beforehand."

She knew that this was coming soon or later since the regular contents other than cover stories had already been shifted to using digital stills. Film photography demanded on time and money. In addition to that, a lot of imaging and photography company had already discontinued the production of photographic films. She admitted most of readers hardly could distinguish digital photography from film one if photo retouching was properly done.

"The decision has come down from on high." Rachel started explaining. "It's inevitable, especially from a cost-cutting perspective. But," she continued, "we don't need to change anything for this issue, since we've already gotten Sue's approval to the budget, also we don't have Digial Team here, we need to modify the workflow for the Olympics issue as soon as we get back to New York though."

"Finn's going to work with us for the Olympics issue, right?" Artie asked. "Or, it's not official yet?" He turned his head towards the photographer sitting next to him.

"I signed the contract which expires the end of this year." Finn answered.

"Aren't you a film photographer?" Blaine asked, out of the corner of his eye glancing at Rachel, who was casting down at the table, looking like absorbed in her thoughts for some reason.

"Um, kinda." Finn rubbed the back of his neck. "But I've got Pentax 645D, Leica M9, and Canon 5D Mark II, too, although I'm not good at photo retouching."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Finn." Jake, the editorial designer, patted on his shoulder. "We've got great photo editors. You just ask them to manipulate as to whatever you want, just like you your developers when you access to the lab."

"Yeah, I'm going to take you to meet them when we're back to the office." Artie added.

"Alright, anything else, Rachel?" Mercedes called out to the brunette. She saw her mouthing 'no' before declaring. "Then let's call it a night."

Rachel stayed sitting down on the chair as the rest of the staff other than Mercedes walked away from the room. She glanced at her watch on her wrist, which indicated it was past 11pm.

"Don't you go to your room?" Mercedes raised her eyebrow.

"I think it's gonna be a long night for me since I have a lot to think about." Rachel shook her head as she answered. "Maybe one or two glasses of wine will calm my nerve. You wanna come?"

"I'm beat, so I'll pass." Mercedes said apologetically. "But you should go to bed as soon as possible because–"

"I know, I know," Rachel cut it. "Shopping tomorrow, right?"

"At the lobby, 10am." Mercedes reminded her.

"Sharp." Rachel nodded. "I remember."

"Okay, I'll go. Good night, Rachel."

"Night, Mer."

* * *

><p>As Rachel stepped out into the courtyard, luckily there were a few vacant tables. She sat at the table at the corner before ordering her Cabernet. Although New Orleans in February was much warmer than in New York, it was chilly at night. She tightened her coat while she waited for her drink.<p>

"May I?"

Rachel froze as she heard a male voice from behind, which she was sure was Finn's. She turned her head towards the direction where the voice came from and looked at the tall guy before just shrugging.

He seated himself quietly across her and ordered La Chimay Bleue for him as a waiter delivered her glass of wine. Both of them stayed in silence awkwardly until the waiter returned to bring his beer to their table.

"Is that good?" Rachel was the first to break the ice. "I don't know much about beer."

Finn sipped his beer before nodding. "Belgian beer is aging like wine. If you like wine, you should try one. I think you'll like Lindemans Pêche Belgium Lambic." He suggested.

"I'll try it when finishing this." Rachel held up her glass. "I don't remember _Figgins_ has Belgian beer."

"Is that the bar your cousin tends?" Finn remembered they had been there a few times. "I think they have La Chimay Rouge, which I also think you'll like. It has a black currant flavor."

"You've got a college degree of Belgian beer or something?" Rachel raised her eyebrow.

Finn chuckled as he beckoned the waiter to get his order. "Something like that." He ordered every kind of Belgian beer, which the bar had as he handed her empty glass out to the waiter. "Let's have a Belgian beer tasting."

"I don't think I can drink that much." Rachel protested.

"I'll take care of it if you don't like." Finn insisted.

After the waiter put down five kinds of beer and one beer glass filled with Chimay Triple, Rachel asked again. "You really have a college degree of beer?"

"No," Finn motioned for her to taste La Chimay Rouge, putting the bottle in front of her. "Maybe I got to have a good palate for Belgian beer while in Belgium for a while."

"Oh." Rachel looked down and stared at the bottle, tracing the label with her thumb.

Finn cleared his throat to break the awkward silence. "Rachel, I–"

"Finn," Rachel interrupted, "you don't have to explain anything. I get it. It was nothing and I don't want to talk about it." She sipped her beer before changing the subject. "It tastes really good. I like it."

Finn just smiled at her sheepishly.

"You don't mind working with us even though you can't take photographs with your view cameras?" Rachel asked before swigging her beer.

Finn nodded in deflated. "I have softened my stance on digital photography considerably, you know, when it comes to 'business.'" He gestured the quotation. "Whether I use view cameras or digital ones, paper publication companies don't care how it's made as long as it's great work, I still take pictures with my view cameras though."

"My dads always are saying technology keeps people away from staying in the richness of the mind and heart, and the invention of the fax machine _is _the real villain." Rachel laughed a little before looking into his eyes. "I hope you'll take photographs with view cameras as long as you are allowed, you know, many photographic films have been discontinued yet." She smiled at him despite herself. "I know our photo editors are great, but there are limits and always subtle differences between film and digital, like you can never reproduce the sound of the stylus scratching record grooves."

"I know. That's why you have a vast vinyl collection, right?" Finn grinned, remembering when he went to her apartment.

"Although you were forced to listen to only the B side of '_Synchronicity_' since I left it putting on the player." Rachel giggled, but soon she made a face, realizing what they were talking about. To keep their conversation from the past, she grabbed another bottle of Belgian beer, which he had recommended before tasting it. "Wow, this is good, too." She wore a surprised look on her face. "It's, it's like–"

"Cocktail?" Finn completed her sentence.

Rachel nodded. "If I tell Noah about this, he's definitely going to have this in to gain more sales and female customers." She decided to keep having a beer tasting for a while, sending their past into the void.

"Okay, I'm getting tipsy." Rachel rubbed her forehead with a hand, closing her eyes. "Do you have the time?"

"Um," Finn grabbed her hand to look at her watch on her wrist since he didn't have his, "it's ten to one."

"Already?" Rachel massaged her temple with her forefinger. "I have to go to bed."

"I'll walk you to your room." Finn offered, still her hand in his.

Rachel pulled her hand away from his as she noticed it. "I'm fine." She shifted her gaze towards the waiter before pulling her wallet out of her bag for the check.

Finn put his hand on hers to stop her from paying, the other hand into his back pocket. "I'll get this."

"No, I'll get this." Rachel protested.

"No, I'll get this." Finn said stubbornly.

"No, I'll get this."

"No, Rach, I'll get this."

"No, I–" Rachel burst out laughing.

Finn frowned. "What's so funny?"

Rachel shook her head, still giggling. "I don't know. Because I got intoxicated, maybe?" She really didn't know why. She just felt funny things in her stomach because they had talked for almost two hours as if they were old friends despite the fact that they had seen each other only for a week.

Finn fished his credit card out of his wallet before sliding it in the tab. "Alright, I'll really walk you to your room." He offered in a demanding manner.

Finally, she composed herself and took his offer. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Rachel nodded, thinking, maybe someday, they could be friends once again.

"Okay, then."

Finn took her hand in his after the waiter returned his card, and led the a little bit wasted brunette to the elevator.

* * *

><p><strong>*: 'All of Me' is written by Gerald Marks and Seymour Simons and sung and performed with tons of musicians and singers. I think I like Billie Holiday's version the most.<strong>

**Please review :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and sending reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 – February 2012<strong>

"Oooooohhh, I'm so stoked!" Artie rubbed his hands together, pumping himself up, before he twisted his body to the right in order to give a fist bump to Jake, who also trembled with excitement.

"Yeah, right." Mercedes snorted, rolling her eyes. "We can't publish those photos, just so you know."

"Besides, I heard that police have been making many more arrests than usual with the recent excessive behavior of tourists crack down." Kitty assisted.

"Guys, the prototype finally has been delivered!" Holding a carbon box with Ryder's assistance, Rachel gleefully called out to four of the staff, Blaine and Finn in tow, who were discussing the photo shoot, which the team in the afternoon of the day had at the factory that you could see the behind-the-scenes of Mardi Gras.

Rachel opened the carbon box and verified the contents—instant film camera, which one of the Japanese imaging and photography companies sent for product testing to expand the market in the US from next year. She handed out one by one to each staff respectively.

"Cool!" Artie took it from Rachel and started studying it. It was as if you had strayed into 50's; the body was offered in black and silver chrome.

"It has some manual settings!" Ryder declared happily. "Double exposure is one of them."

"I'm not following." Kitty frowned. "What the heck dose double exposure mean?" She gazed upon the camera in her hands with much curiosity.

"Have you ever used any kind of photo APP for iPhone? Like Instant Blender or Dobble or Iris Photo Suite?" Artie asked, losing no time in connecting camera strap with both sides of the camera.

Finn helpfully interrupted as he saw the young blonde and Mercedes exchange a quizzical glance and shrug. "You can superimpose an image over another image previously you released a shutter."

After Jake and Ryder explained a little bit more detail as to how to use the functions for Kitty and Mercedes, Rachel cleared her throat to get their attention.

"I know you guys get excited, especially Artie and Jake," she turned her head towards two of them making a straight face, "you're looking forward to throwing strings of beads to get a treat from women. But don't forget why we came here and what we will use this instant camera for."

Then she started handing out two boxes of instant film to each member of the staff. "You have only 20 sheets of instant film per each and not only Travel Team'll use them for their pages, but also Web Team will."

"And the pictures you take with your cell phone or digital camera," Mercedes followed Rachel's remark, "should be sent to Will first."

"Don't send Travel Team or Web Team the pictures directly only to entertain them!" Knowing she couldn't stop the boys from doing it, as the person in charge, Rachel warned nonetheless.

* * *

><p>"<em>Show your tits! Show your tits!"<em>

Rachel, Mercedes and Kitty heard the symphonic dimension out of the balconies at the Bourbon Street as they emerged from the café where they had had King Cake (for the record, none of them had gotten a King Cake baby).

"_Three, two, one–"_

Loud wolf-whistles howled over the street and from the balcony as two girls lifted their shirts up after the people on the balcony threw the strings of purple, green and gold (and some of them added red or blue or white) beads at the girls.

"I didn't know Blaine was interested in women's body. Look." Kitty nodded in the direction where not only Blaine but Finn was chatting with a tall blonde girl across the street.

Blaine handed out one of the 'throws' from his hand to the blonde girl, trying for negotiation, as Kitty approached them, Mercedes in tow. Rachel reluctantly followed them. "Hey, Blaine. Hey, Finn" Kitty called out.

After taking a picture of the blonde girl hanging the string of beads around her neck with his cell phone, Blaine faced the three of his colleagues, grinning. "Hey, ladies."

"When did you get interested in girls, Blaine?" Kitty bluntly asked.

"Can't I admire female's breasts just because I play for the other team?" Blaine shrugged. "Besides, they put out more easily when I tell them I'm a gay." He faced to the taller guy beside him. "Right, Finn?"

"Um, yeah." Finn rubbed the back of his neck with an empty hand, a few throws in the other.

"I guess I've gotten more pictures of them than Artie, Ryder or Jake have because of the very reason." Blaine announced triumphantly. "But Finn had more girls who were ready to show their bare breasts even if he wouldn't ask." He patted the photographer on the shoulder.

"Show me!" Kitty cried excitedly, snatching Blaine's cell phone out of his hand to look through the pictures before turning her face towards the photographer. "You have to show me the pictures, too, Finn!" She demanded, pointing to his Leica.

"Um, I–" Finn stole a glance at Rachel, shifting at the place uncomfortably "don't have many."

"You have enough." Blaine nudged Finn's arm lightly, winking at him with a smirk around his lips. "Artie, Jake, Ryder and us made a bet on who could get the most."

"Men never grow up." Mercedes snorted, rolling her eyes, however, she looked at the pictures on his cell phone nonetheless.

"I prefer to be said that boys will be boys forever." Blaine retorted.

"Wow, you've got twelve!" Kitty cried out. "I'm impressed. How about you, Finn?" She grabbed his camera, which was hanging from his shoulder, to peek into the screen on the back of it.

Finn hesitantly circled the jog dial on the back of his camera to show the editorial assistant the pictures that he had taken.

"He's got nine so far." Blaine informed as Kitty counted the number of pictures. "Why don't you guys help him win the bet?" Blaine joked. "He could catch up on if you would."

"Hell no!" Mercedes huffed.

"I would be happy to show my boobies if I had yours." Kitty let out a giggle at Mercedes. "But, I don't mind helping him." She held her hand out to Finn. "Give me that string, the big one, and I'll show you my boobs!" She offered, smirking.

Mercedes hung her mouth open with a horrified look. "Kitty! All the guy at the company definitely will see your breasts!"

"Finn's a professional, Mer. I could be naked if he wanted." Kitty shrugged. "Haven't you thought of keeping your best time in memory?" She turned her head to Finn. "What do you say?"

Rachel hung her head to look down at her lack of the rack unconsciously. Feeling uncomfortable, she looked into a viewfinder of the instant film camera, pretending as if she was going to take pictures of people in the street, and stepped backward a little without being noticed by four of the staff.

She didn't care how many girls eagerly showed their boobs to Finn. It was just a reveling. Finn's taking nude photographs of her colleagues, however, especially girls like Kitty, who had a sneaky hot body with blonde, was not what she ever wanted to picture in her head. Not that she had feelings for him, like _at all_! That was just… gross, you know.

Finn sheepishly smiled at the youngest woman in front of him. "I'd like to but I'll pass, sorry." He ducked his head apologetically, seeing Rachel slowly turn around and walk away from them out of the corner of his eyes.

Kitty pouted. "Well, in that case, I'm going to take on the side of Artie, Jake or Ryder!" She turned on her heel and began to walk away from them to look for the other guys.

Realizing that Rachel was not beside her and Finn's gaze followed Rachel, Mercedes yanked the shorter guy's arm before whispering in his ear. "We've got to go, too." She slightly nodded to Finn then Rachel.

Blaine just nodded in agreement, and they chased after Kitty, leaving Finn at the place.

* * *

><p>As a small person as she was, it was wrong for her to walk away from them. As the night went on, the crowd of revelers got bigger, which made difficult for her to maneuver herself out of the street. In addition to that, if she wanted to take pictures of the atmosphere, she had to climb a tree or something.<p>

Rachel looked around the street to find some building that she would be allowed to wedge herself in the people on the balcony. She managed to make her way through the revelers over to one of the hotels at the Bourbon Street, and got out of the crowd to reach for the entrance of a hotel.

Unaware of someone's calling her name from across the street, she walked into the hotel to look for a concierge or someone who could get her a green light to be on the balcony.

Although the concierge generously allowed her to go up onto the balcony of the second floor, she keenly felt how difficult her vertically-challenged figure made her life once she stepped out into the balcony. There were already tons of people out there, on top of that, standing two or three deep along the guard railing.

Now you knew why elbowing people aside was her signature move. It was very important for small people to establish their own method of letting others know that they also existed!

When Rachel managed to cut into the rearmost row, someone from behind gave her a dig in the shoulder. No, she was definitely not going to offer the spot she finally managed to have! She brushed it off without looking back at the person who was going to steal her spot. The person, however, didn't seem to give up.

Annoyed. How coward he or she was, taking aim at the smallest person on the balcony! Fine! She turned her head around as she made her mind to confront this bully-the-weaker. "I'm not g–"

Widened her eyes, Rachel stopped herself in mid-sentence as she realized the person who she had thought he was going to steal her spot was Finn (for your information, he was chuckling!).

Chewing the inside of her cheeks to try to hide her embarrassment which she believed appeared on her face with a color of tomato, she straightened up at the place, narrowing her eyes. "What, are you stalking me?"

"Did you just elbow the people in the back row?" Ignoring her remark, Finn asked.

"If I did, then what?" Rachel tucked a pile of her hair, annoyed with his still chuckling.

Finn raised his eyebrow at her defiant demeanor, but brushed it off. "Do you want me to give a shoulder ride?" He offered.

"I'm not a kid, Finn, even though my height is as same as my 12 years old self was." Rachel huffed. "Besides, it's perilous. So, thank you, but no thank you."

"Piggyback ride?" Finn insisted.

Rachel let out a sigh. "No, I'm fine."

"C'mon, Rachel! You want to take pictures from here, right?" Finn gently pulled her arm for her to get out of the line. Then he turned around and knelt down on his knee, waiting for her to climb on his back. He, however, didn't feel anything on his back. Turning his head to see what she was doing, he saw her eyes roving around the balcony.

"Nobody cares, Rachel. Every one of the people here focuses on girls down there. Now, come on!" Finn encouraged.

Rachel took a deep breath, giving in to resist. She slowly climbed on his back and managed to let out the words 'Thank you' in a low voice.

Finn slightly turned his head to her and gave her a lopsided smile. "Anytime."

* * *

><p>Too drained by the coverage in New Orleans, Rachel decided to stay lying on the bed in her New York apartment on Sunday afternoon, just staring at the ceiling, occupied with her thoughts of Finn.<p>

"_Okay, I'm done here." She announced, but Finn didn't put her down and got out of the balcony holding her legs around his torso with his tight grip. "Finn, put me down. I've finished taking the pictures!" She repeated._

_He, however, stayed in stony silence and kept carrying her on his back._

"_Finn!" Rachel punched his shoulder with her fist repeatedly, tightening her grip of the left arm around his neck. "Put me down!"_

"_I didn't know you were violent." Finn mumbled, scrunching his nose with the pain on his shoulder. "Rachel." He let out a sigh. "You didn't let me finish the other day, so I'm not going to put you down until you let me finish tonight," he took a pause before continuing, "though I wanted to tell you this face to face."_

_Rachel shut her eyes and let out a shaky breath. She hadn't prepared herself for this yet._

"_I'm sorry, Rachel. I really–"_

"_About what?" Rachel interrupted, saying angrily, trying to shake her legs loose from his grip._

"_About–" Finn choked a little before clearing his throat, "about what I didn't show up at your apartment." He finally gave in to her tenacity of getting out of his back and turned to face her._

_Rachel smoothed her skirt and looked up at him. "If that was a one night stand for you or some kind of joke, you don't need to apologize, do you?"_

"_It was not either a joke or a one night stand, you know that, Rachel!" Finn protested._

"_Then you could've called me, Finn, to tell me you changed your mind! I waited and waited for you to knock on my door all day!" Noticing some of the people in the hotel stared at them, she whisper-shouted, trying her hardest not to let her tears fall on her cheeks._

"_I tried to reach for you over and over, but you just chose to ignore it. And, and–" Her voice gradually got to be raised. "When I brought myself to come to your apartment, leaving my ego at the door," she laughed at herself sarcastically before throwing a sharp voice at him, "you were already gone!"_

_Annoyed with his casting down his eye in silence, Rachel continued to speak. "You wouldn't have seen me again if Kurt didn't take a job offer at our company, would you?"_

"_I wanted to call or write you, but I couldn't." Finn mumbled._

"_You _couldn't_?" Rachel didn't understand, frowning. "Why?"_

"_Because," Finn paused, "because I was lost." He looked up at her face, which was telling that she had no idea what he was talking about, and continuing. "After you left my apartment, my girlfriend came–"_

"_Wait, wait, hold on," Rachel cut in. "W-what, your _girlfriend_?" She choked._

"_No!" Finn cried out. "I mean, ex-girlfriend–"_

"_Stop, stop right there!" Rachel held her hand up to stop him as she shook her head. "I don't think I want to hear you out tonight anymore." She stepped back from him. "I-I got to go." With that, she left Finn behind at the hotel, ignoring his calling her name._

Rachel let out a deep breath and glanced at the clock on the night table, remembering she was going to purchase some ligit digital camera. She slowly got herself up from her bed and headed to the bathroom to take a shower for going out.

* * *

><p>About an hour later, she was standing at the door of the store <em>JAI Camera<em> that was a purveyor of many professional photographers. Praying that the creepy sales clerk would have a day off, Rachel took a deep breath, closing her eyes, before she pushed the entrance to walk in.

Letting out a relieved sigh as there was no sign of the guy with a big reddish brown Afro hair in the store, she walked over towards the customer service counter.

She had a few film cameras—two single-lens reflex, one rangefinder, and one compact, but didn't digital cameras other than a compact one which she had bought a few years before out of necessity. She lagged way behind in knowing the world of digital photography. If the company completely shifted to using digital stills for The _Musicraker_, she needed to learn and catch up on it, even though she was not a photographer. She would not be satisfied unless she could be the one who was savvy the most amongst editors.

Mentally noted that she needed to buy some photograph collections of famous digital photographers, Rachel approached the counter where some sales clerks were. "Excuse me," she called out to the back of a man behind the counter.

The man whirled around to face her with a reverential smile. "Yes, ma'am. What can I help for you?"

"Um, I'd like to know which model I could use the lenses that I possess." Rachel asked. "I have some Zuiko, Destagon, and Planar."

"I'll get someone who knows it better. Would you please wait here a moment?" With that, he disappeared into the back room.

While waiting, she picked up a brochure on the counter and flipped through it.

"Rachel! Long time no see!"

Rachel groaned as she heard _the_ high-pitched voice from the direction where the top of her head pointed to. She slowly lifted her face up to look at the guy who she hadn't expected to see again. "Hello, Jacob." She greeted bluntly.

"I'm really glad that you came to see me again! What can I help for you today? I'll do anything for you, you know that right?" The Jewfro winked and blew a kiss at her.

Trying her hardest of the hardest not to throw up, she managed to wear a feigned smile on her face, before telling him the film cameras and lenses that she possessed and explaining as to what she wanted to know.

"You could use your Zuiko with PEN series if installing a specialized adapter. But considering you have Distagon too, I recommend Canon EOS 5D Mark II since you could use your Zuiko and Distagon both with mount adapter." Jacob fished a copy of its brochure out of the shelf behind him before adding. "I think you have to want to have some purpose-built lenses though."

"I can't afford to buy them right now." Knowing how expensive camera lenses were, compared to a camera body, Rachel shook her head.

"You can borrow my lenses," the Jewfro wagged his eyebrows in a meaningful way, "for free." He tried to grab her hand.

Rachel pulled her hand from the counter quickly before Jacob could touch. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"You are so aloof, Rachel." Jacob pouted.

Rachel shuddered, but managed to compose herself. "Alright, thank you, Jacob. I've got to go. Bye." With that, she lighted out to the section where she could get the camera Jacob had recommended.

Thinking pros and cons for a while, Rachel decided to buy EOS 5D Mark II as Jacob recommended, and headed for _Dashwood Books_ that was a photography bookstore in the East Village and the people who were into photography loved.

Holding the paper bag in her arms as if it was her baby, Rachel walked into the bookstore and made her way over to the Digital Photography section as she saw the familiar frame standing, flipping through a book in his hands.

Yup, she should've known that there were possibilities she would bump into him here since they had come here together a couple of times. Well, she brought him to this bookstore to begin with.

She thought that she'd better turn back at first, but against it. She let out an empty laugh. Looked like the universe played with them. She cleared her throat to get his attention.

"Hello, Finn."

Finn perked up his head and turned to see her. He widened his eyes and got tensed for a moment, but he managed to smile at her.

"Hey, Rachel."

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and sending reviews! This chapter depicts flashbacks of the time Finn first met Mr. Schuester and of the next days since Finn met Rachel (from Finn's point of view), included smut.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 – December 2010January 2011**

_He didn't know why he hadn't asked her number the day before. Maybe because he was being nervous? Cursing at himself under his breath, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and put his hands underneath the armpits not to let his fingers frozen stiff while waiting for her knocking-off time, leaning against the wall at outside of the Sylvester building, remembering she had said that she was going to work on holidays._

_He perked his head up as he heard the sound of laughing, which he thought that he would never get tired of listening. "Hey, Rachel." He called._

_That stopped Rachel from walking away. Her eyes lightened up as she found Finn standing along the wall of the company building. "Why hello, Finn!" She turned her head towards her African American of a colleague, who just glanced at him out of the corner of her eye with a raised eyebrow, to exchange 'see you on Monday's' with a waving hand, before approaching him. "You look like freezing. Why didn't you come up to the office?"_

"_I don't have my voucher yet." Finn shrugged, his hands moving down into his pockets._

"_But you could've asked a security guard." Rachel started rummaging in her bag for her wool gloves as she asked. "Don't you have to go back home in Lima on Christmas?" She held her gloves out to him, seeing him breathe out into his clasped hands. "Would you need these?"_

_Finn chuckled. "Too small for my hands." He shook his head. "Um, I was thinking, uh, would you like to go grab a coffee or something? O-or do you have any plans for this evening?" He nervously asked._

"_Actually, I was going to go to _Dashwood Books_." Rachel answered. "Wanna come?" Rachel asked, tilting her head to one side_ _expectantly._

_Finn scratched his head, shifting at the place. "Um, I don't read books that much."_

"Dashwood_ is a photography book store, Finn. You're definitely going to love it!" Rachel clapped her hands in front of her chest. "Come on, Finn." She looped her arm with his and started walking in the street without waiting for him to answer. "You know, William Eggleston's '_Before Color_' has been published this month. I want to get a copy and a few other books." She looked up at him with a big smile. "After that, we can grab a coffee. Or you can have the leftover Xmas cake that I baked at my apartment if you like? My apartment's very close to the book store."_

_Finn was too preoccupied with her arm on his and a feeling of something in his stomach—he didn't remember when the last time he had felt like this was—to manage to speak. He just nodded and let her lead away to the book store._

* * *

><p><em>He ended up stopping by Rachel's apartment on the way back from <em>Dashwood Books_ next day since she had said that she was not going to work but deal with her piled up laundry. He really wanted to spend time with her as much as possible. It was by no means possible for him to have people to really talk with about photography (his private works, more specifically), even though he had worked at a photo studio/DPE store back home, there were none to talk about it since all the coworkers had worked there because of only paying the bills._

_Sure, his mother had always said she believed him, and his stepbrother had always been encouraging him to move to New York, Los Angeles or some bigger place than Columbus or Lima to be a photographer, saying he could shine on his own. But they were his family and family should be like that even if they didn't really think or believe. Long story short, he hadn't believed himself after all. He hadn't known how, either._

_Even though he had reached a very crucial determination to move to New York about a month before, thanks to his family, he had still doubted himself._

_Until he met William Schuester._

_And Rachel Berry._

_After he had moved to New York, he yet got nowhere to start. But fate crept up on him, one day, in the Central Park, when he wandered around holding his last grandfather's Hasselblad 1600F in his hands tightly._

"_Wow, you're the first person who actually possesses that model I've ever met." Were the words Mr. Schue spoke to him for the first time. "Is that the initial model?"_

_Finn turned around to see the man who had talked to him from behind. "You mean, this?" He held his camera up. He saw the middle-aged man nod a few times. "No, it isn't."_

"_Still, I've never met people who actually have one. Do you know how rare that model is? There are less than 3,000 in the world!" The man's eyes sparkled. "I'm sorry, I'm William Schuester, a failed musician and a failed photographer, also, by the way." Grinning, he pulled his hand out of his glove and held it out to him to shake._

"_Finn Hudson." Finn took his hand nervously, hesitating to declare his title._

_Mr. Schuester raised his eyebrow before assuming. "Aren't you a photographer? You must be one."_

"_Um, actually," Finn still hesitated, "I used to work at a photo studio in Columbus, Ohio, and I've just moved to the City. To try to be one." He told Mr. Schuester the truth._

"_Well, Finn, I would like to see your portfolio." Mr. Schuester put his hand into the inside pocket of his coat to take his business card before handing it out to Finn. "I'm working at _The Musicraker_. I'm gonna go on a business trip from tomorrow, but I'll be back before Xmas. Oh, you should come to the company's Xmas party. I want to introduce my best editor to you, too. I'm going to put your name on the visitor's list, so all you have to do is to ask at the reception." With that, he walked away from the place, leaving the last words 'please come to show me your portfolio!' with a waving hand over his shoulder._

_Finn just stood there for a while, holding Mr. Schuester's business card in one hand, his heavy camera in one arm, stunning at what had just happened to him._

_If the encounter with Mr. Schuester opened the door for him, meeting Rachel provided a spark for him to start believing himself. She was the first person other than his family to make him feel that he had not been doing wrong._

_She had a great store of knowledge about film cameras and photographers rather than photographers themselves like him, although she made it clear to him that she just had enough knowledge for an editor, but was not skilled at taking pictures. And she invested her knowledge in his future, saying that every great photographer had trodden the beaten track, just like Robert Frank collected his works into 'The Americans' after the model of Walker Evans 'American Photographs.'_

"_Hey, Rachel." Finn greeted as she opened her door._

"_Hi, Finn. What a surprise!" Rachel gave him a big smile that he thought he would never be tired of seeing as well. "Come on in!" She gestured for him to enter, stepping aside._

"_I've got you something." Finn nervously held out a photography book neatly wrapped by a green and red colored paper as she led him to the living room. "Merry Christmas, one day late, though."_

"_Finn, you didn't have to give me a present." She hesitated to take it from him._

_His lips curled into a lopsided form. "Just a token of my appreciation for having your cake." He waited for her to take the present before sitting on the sofa._

_Rachel sat on the sofa next to him and deliberately peeled off the wrapping paper and gasped a little as she saw the book—Mingus, Monk and Mailer: W Eugene Smith's Jazz Loft photographs—which it had taken time for her to decide not to buy the day before since she already spent her money for another three books. "Finn." She cupped her mouth with her hand before looking at him. "You really didn't have to."_

"_I wanted to." Finn shrugged._

_She put the book on the coffee table and gave him a hug. "Thank you."_

"_My pleasure." Finn hugged her back, praying that she wouldn't notice how fast his heart beat._

* * *

><p>"<em>Do you know where the best spot to enjoy the views of Times Square and Ball Drop is?" Rachel leaned closer to Finn, sipping her red wine from the glass. They were currently at the company annual New Year's Eve party at a restaurant.<em>

"_No, I don't." Finn shook his head. "Where?"_

_Rachel just smirked at him. "Wait here for a minute." With that, she walked over to the place where Sue's secretary was chatting with the colleagues._

_Finn stared at her toned long mile legs, and her backside which curves were tightly hugged _by the silky black fabric of her dress _around her tiny little body.  
><em>

_He had seen her every day after her work since they first met. One day at her apartment or his apartment, one day at the bar where her cousin with a Mohawk worked, one day at _Dashwood Books_, or one day at a coffee shop. Neither of them labeled them what they were (besides, they never kissed… yet), but being with Rachel felt something right for him._

"_Come on, Finn, let's go!" Rachel took his beer from his hand to hand it out to a waiter who happened to be passing by them and grabbed his hand before making their way over towards the cloakroom by the entrance to get their coats._

_Rachel's excited voice and her hand in his snapped him out of his thoughts. "Where are we going?" Finn asked, confused._

"_Sue's office." Rachel answered in a low voice._

_Finn frowned. "Are you going to work on New Year's Eve? At this late?"_

"_No, Finn, silly." Rachel giggled. "Sue's office is the best spot to watch the Ball Drop." She kept her voice in a low as she led him out of the restaurant. "But, don't tell anyone. There are few people who know that. If we get caught, I'll get my fingers burnt."_

"_But how do you get in there?" Finn whispered unconsciously, looking around the crowded street to make sure no one was listening to their conversation._

_Rachel stopped themselves from walking along the street and held a card key up to him, grinning triumphantly. "I bribed Becky with her favor."_

"_How?"_

"_She has a crush on Noah." She linked her arm with his before starting walking again. "I just made a promise that I would arrange three dates with him for her."_

_Finn arched his eyebrow. "But Puck wasn't at the party, right? Does he know?"_

"_I've got a lot on him, Finn." Rachel shrugged. "I'm sure he'll come to heel, because he knows I can always get what I want." She stuck her tongue out of her mouth with mischief._

"_You're bad." Finn chuckled. "Should I be scared of you?" He poked her arm with his forefinger playfully._

_Rachel squeezed his arm with her tiny hand. "I hope not."_

* * *

><p>"<em>Wow, are those original prints of Joel Meyerowitz?" Finn stopped in front of the wall where a lot of paintings and photographs were hung.<em>

"_I think so. There were times Sue was obsessed with him. I don't know why. Oh," Rachel turned to face him, "Meyerowitz and you are from the same college, right?"_

_Finn nodded as he stepped closer to the photographs._

"_And he studied photography by himself, just like you." Rachel walked over to him and stood beside him. "I think he started to work as a freelance photographer when he was around your age. Maybe you'll follow in the footsteps of him from now on too." She nudged his arm with her elbow gently. "Of course, on your own way."_

"_I don't know." Finn rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at her in an insecure manner._

"_Yes, you will!" Rachel took his hand and dragged him to the windows where had a grandstand view of Times Square. "Look." The decorative illumination shined on her hair, her skin, and her eyes. "This is New York, Finn, the city where dreams come true." She looked up at him. "You've already taken a step forward. Your talent has made you take a step forward. You just have to believe yourself."_

_Finn drowned in her big brown eyes, which directed to his eyes. He knew that she had said from the bottom of her heart, which made him feel a lump in his throat. His large hands yanked her waist to get her closer to him and crush his lips on hers, not caring about missing the moment the giant ball dropped. He didn't even hear the loud jubilance through the windows. All he could hear was the sound of ripples back in his ears, and of his heart beat merging into hers._

_He wanted to feel her. He needed to feel all of her. He put his hands on her hips and picked her up off of the floor. He knew she felt the same way by how she responded._

_He reluctantly pulled himself a little away from her before whispering in her ear. "Let's get out of here."_

* * *

><p><em>They managed to thread their way through the crowd that was still everywhere in New York streets and get to his apartment. They hastily ripped their clothes off their bodies as soon as he closed his front door. He carried her over to his bedroom, leaving their clothes on the floor at his door.<em>

_He knew it was not just either lusts or a phase._

_And he knew she knew that._

_He cupped her right breast and gently massaged it as his tongue traced her nipple while her tiny warm hand gave a gentle ministration over the fabric of his boxers. The fingers of his other hand felt her wetness. His tongue trailed up from her cleavage, to her neck, then her jaw, and finally thrust into her mouth. Both breathed heavily. He managed to let out his words between his hot breathes into her ear._

"_Shit, Rach. I want you so bad."_

"_Then take me."_

_He hurriedly took a package of condom out of the drawer and ripped it off as she pushed his boxers then her thong down. Soon as he rolled it on his hard dick, he slammed it into her._

"_Oh, God, Finn."_

_The electricity rushed through from the tip of his head to the toe of his feet. He poured his_ _inexplicable feelings into his thrusts. Her body responded to every move he made as if she knew what he wanted to tell. He suddenly pulled himself out of her and flipped her body around before he got her legs folded under herself and gently pushed her upper body down on the bed. He lightly traced her smooth skin of the back up and down with his hand, which caused her to shudder and escape out of her lips a beautiful sound that he'd never heard before._

_Then he leaned down to lay his chest on her back as he took her from behind._

_His left arm wrapped around her body as the fingers of his right hand threaded through her shiny hair. She whimpered as he bit her left shoulder softly. He turned her head slightly towards his face, and sucked and soothed her neck. "You feel so fucking good." He whispered in her ear before capturing her mouth with his, which triggered off the start of her walls' swelling and squeezing his shaft. He almost exploded, but he wanted her to come first. His right hand traveled down to the south and rubbed her clit._

_Her body was shaken for a while as she reached her orgasm along with her calling his name, and after a few more thrusts, he spilled out into the condom. It was the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced. He buried his face in her neck and caught his breath. Then he dropped his lips on her shoulder and her cheeks. Their bodies still overlapped each other as if their sweats were glue._

_And they stayed like that for a while, as if both of them didn't want to forget this moment._

* * *

><p><em>The morning light admitted into the bedroom, Finn slowly opened his eyes. With the exhaustion of the pleasure from their previous activities, he managed to sit himself up on the bed and picked her boxers up off of the floor. He put them on as he smiled down at the brunette next to him, who still was in deep sleep, lying on her stomach.<em>

_A pile of her hair hanging on her rosy cheeks, his T-shirt she wore loose around her shoulders. She was so beautiful and peaceful. Wondering what she was dreaming about right now and if it was about him, he unconsciously grabbed his Hasselblad from the night table and looked at her through the viewfinder._

_That was the moment he realized he fell in love with her._

_He wanted so badly to memorize the very moment now and forever, and repeatedly released a shutter, forgetting himself. Until the sound of the shutter woke her up._

_Rachel opened her one eye and searched the direction of the sound. As she noticed that it was the shutter of his camera, she buried her face into the pillow. "I'm not cut out for a model, Finn." She let out a muffled voice from the pillow as she groped around her head for another pillow before throwing it in the direction where she thought he was._

_He caught the pillow before it could hit his face. He put it down on the original spot and then lay down on his side next to her. "Morning to you too, beautiful."_

_Rachel slowly turned her head to face him. His face was so close to hers. "Good morning, Finn."_

_Finn ran his fingers through her hair and stared at her for a while. "I want to take you out tonight, like on a real date, Rach." He finally delivered his words._

_She reached out her hand to touch his cheek and rubbed it gently. "On New Year's Day?"_

"_Why not?" He leaned his face closer to hers. "Don't you think it's the best day to be picked up for a date?"_

_A soft laugh escaped from his lips. "Sounds reasonable." She shifted her body on her back. "Okay."_

"_Okay?" He tried to hide his excitement._

"_Yes, Finn, take me out on a date tonight." She turned her head to see his face with a smile._

_He got his own large frame on top of her small one and cradled her head with both his arms, leaning his forehead against hers. His eyes bored into her big chocolate eyes, which were looking straight back at his amber eyes, and he delicately brushed his lips on hers as he took her (his) T-shirt off of her head._

_This time was so much different from their previous copulations. Slower and more gentle. They both never tore their eyes off from each other during something making, until crossing the finish line._

_His heart soared._

_This was where he wanted to be. Where he should be._

_New day, New year, new life, in New York._

_With her._

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 – March 2012<strong>

"That's it?" Tina turned to face _The Musicraker_ senior editor, her face furrowed, as she pressed the elevator.

Mercedes and she had just returned to the company building after they had bought their lunch and were heading for the large meeting room on the 12th floor to eat before the meeting could be started. For the August issue (Olympic issue), Mercedes and Rachel's team was going to London in May with some of_ Survêtement_, and Tina was one of them.

"It looks like it is." Mercedes shrugged.

"I would hear him out first." Tina looked around to make sure nobody could hear them. Especially Kurt, who seemed to have no idea there had been something between Rachel and Finn, and not know either why Finn had had decided to leave even though he had gotten a job at _The Musicraker_ at that time. She attempted to obtain some useful information about Finn from Kurt, but she got nothing so far (Kurt didn't even know his stepbrother had gotten the job then!). "'Let's put it behind us' is definitely not the closure." She shook her head before getting into the elevator with Mercedes.

Yup, that was the way (words) Rachel chose to draw the line for their past and break the awkwardness between Finn and her at the bookstore last month.

Mercedes could easily imagine that Rachel had monopolized the conversation so that Finn could hardly get a word in edgeways. Rachel said _'Oh, I think it was okay with him, because, we successfully had a smooth conversation after that,'_ blah, blah, blah. Hello, seeming Finn okay was because all Rachel had had a conversation with him about was, like, whether he was using purpose-built lenses for his EOS 5D Mark II or not, or if using lenses both of film cameras and purpose-built ones, how different they were. _Of course_, Finn kindly answered her random questions about the cameras. What else was he supposed to do?

"I know." Mercedes let out a sigh.

"I don't understand. That was over a year ago." Tina said, emerging out of the elevator. "She should get over it. If she just hears him out, she can move on."

"It's easy for the person who's in the stable relationship for a long time to say 'I would' or 'she should.' Mercedes retorted.

Taken aback for a moment, Tina furrowed as she pushed the meeting room's door and walked into the room.

Mercedes didn't mean to sound harsh, but it was true that it was easy for Tina to say like that since the senior editor of _Survêtement_ was outgoing compared to her and Rachel when it came to relationships, of which both of _The Musicraker_ senior editors didn't have good track records.

The three of them were interns when they first met. It was around seven years ago. Mercedes didn't like Rachel at first because they both were very competitive and ambitious. And she didn't like that Rachel was sometimes hard on everyone else (although she was hard on herself, too) when it came to the editor's task. They had disagreements more often than not, and Tina was some kind of bridge between them.

However, the more Mercedes worked with her, the more the Jewish girl grew on her. Especially after she had gotten to know what made her tick was her insecurities—they were two of a kind after all. Rachel and Mercedes were confident in themselves when it came to their job, but they were not about relationships. Tina was completely opposite. The three of them had encouraged one another and grown together.

Mercedes let out a sigh again as she took a seat at the end of the table. "You haven't seen how she was holding herself last month." She started as she opened the plastic container of smoked salmon sushi.

Tina raised her eyebrow. "I can see that, because she still has feelings for him, right?" She leaned forwards on the table, pushing aside her lunch container.

"That's not all." Mercedes turned her head to see the door, assuring Kurt or Rachel would not show up yet before facing her friend and speaking up again. "So he does, I guess."

"If that's the case, the sooner she talks to him the better, for God's sake!" Tina cried out.

"But I understand why she doesn't." Mercedes delivered one of the sushi rolls into her mouth.

Mercedes remembered Rachel had been a mess for a while after Finn's leaving without a goodbye. The brunette got wracked by self-doubt as an editor, her insecurity as a woman resurfaced, and she got defocused. Which caused her to be passed over for promotion, although she eventually regained her footings and got promoted last October.

"She's in the midst of crucial stretch, you know." Mercedes added after having swallowed the sushi roll. She was sure that Rachel was determined to prove to Sue and Will that she was the right person for the post.

"I still think she should sort it out as soon as she can." Tina murmured.

Mercedes opened her mouth to explain as to why Rachel avoided sitting down with Finn, but she shut it immediately as she saw the well dressed guy as always and the art director of _Survêtement_ (she didn't remember his name) entered the meeting room.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure?" Mercedes asked as the brunette and she walked out of the meeting room, Tina in tow.<p>

"We don't have a choice, Mer, you know that." Rachel said, pressing the elevator. "He's the best writer about movies we've ever known." She reasoned as she tucked a pile of her hair behind her ear. "Will agreed with me."

Mercedes couldn't agree more with Rachel that Jesse St. James was one of the best when it came to writing articles about films, especially European ones. The Olympics Issue would be featured UK films and their music. They had already confirmed that some of film directors (Danny Boyle included) would leave their schedule open exclusively on interviews and photo shootings in May.

"But, he's–"

"Yes, he's my ex, I know that." Rachel interrupted before turned to face her best friend. "Mer, I appreciate your concern, but we broke up two years ago. No hard feelings between us." Her head perked up as she heard the elevator ding.

"What about Finn?" Tina cut in, asking in a low voice as she stopped Rachel from entering the elevator before dragging her into the corner of the foyer. Flustered, Mercedes followed them.

Rachel looked at Tina, her face furrowed. "What about him?" She asked in answer as her gaze shifted down to the floor.

"Rachel, I don't think it's a good idea that you've put the things between you two on the back-burner." Tina pressed, sensing that the presence of Jesse might make things more complicated and worse if both Rachel and Finn had still feelings for each other.

"Tina–" Mercedes tried, knowing Tina's meddling was not going to be of any help to the brunette.

"The things?" Rachel widened her eyes as she looked up to see the _Survêtement_'s senior editor. "What do you mean by the things? It's not like we're exes or something, Tina. Why do I have to put something on the back-burner?"

"Because you still like him?" Tina bluntly gave her an answer.

"No, I don't." Rachel bit her bottom lip, her eyes cast down again.

"Tina, don't–" Mercedes tried again, but Tina held her hand up in the air for her not to bother interrupting.

"Why don't you just hear him out? As to why he left?" Tina folded her arms in front of her chest.

"What for?" Rachel snapped. "I would have nothing to gain but pain by bringing up the past." She was about to walk away from her best friends. "I've got to go."

Tina grabbed Rachel's arm. "Even if he still likes you?"

"How come you think he _still_ likes me?" Rachel tried to brush her hand off of her arm. "He had a year, Tina. If Kurt didn't get a job here, he wouldn't have ever shown up to see me again. Don't you think he might have _not_ liked me to begin with? What's the point of tormenting myself with the confirmation?"

"So, you still have feelings for him." Tina concluded.

"Tina, can we leave it at that?" Mercedes cut in as she saw the tiny brunette let out a shaky breath.

"Fine." Tina held her hands up in defense, hoping that the stubbornness of the brunette would not back the wrong horse.

* * *

><p>"I was right." Will patted Finn on the shoulder as he beckoned a bartender to get their orders with the other hand, leaning on the bar counter of <em>Figgin's<em>. "Rachel was right."

"About what?" Finn asked as he took a bottle of beer from the bartender.

"I've already gotten some calls from advertising agencies and photographer ones since yesterday." Will held his bottle up for a toast. "Now the world knows your name and talent."

"Oh." Finn scratched his head, not knowing how to react.

"I think you should consider having rep or agent for the future, you know, since you're definitely gonna be busy." Will turned around to look over the floor where his staff and some parties concerned were mingling. "Actually, I invited _her_ to meet you today." He nodded in the direction where a woman who was wearing a tight fitted green dress with a pair of high heels was standing at the table with Brittany who was one of the company receptionists. "She runs her own photo agency _Snixx_ and is Matt's rep." Will explained before calling out. "_Santana!_"

The Latina snapped her head to see the direction where her name had been called before slowly approaching the two men at the bar counter. She looked at Finn up and down before turning her head to face Will. "Is this guy you've told me about on the phone this morning?"

"He is." Will looked at the tall photographer. "Finn, this is Santana Lopez, Santana, this is Finn Hudson." He introduced them.

"Um, nice to meet you." Finn nervously held his hand out for the Latina to shake.

Santana took his hand as she greeted. "I don't think your puffy vest is a chick magnet, but your pictures are definitely a cash cow." She smirked.

Will let out a laugh as he saw Finn a bit fidgeting. "Her bark is worse than her bite, Finn. She's a hot shot." He faced the Latina. "Go easy on him, Santana."

After the three of them (mostly Santana and Will) had had more talk, Finn walked over to Rachel. "Rachel, can we talk for a minute?" He nodded to the entrance which was quieter for them to have a conversation.

"Sure." Rachel put her glass of wine down on the table and excused herself to her coworkers at the table before following Finn. "What's up?"

"Will suggested me for having a rep." Finn started to speak, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, so you met Santana." Rachel beamed at him.

Finn nodded before asking. "Do you think that I should have one?"

"Considering you may get offers from other magazines or advertising agencies, which I believe you will, I think you should have one." Rachel pronounced. "Besides, you've said you were not good with going around pitching yourself, have you?"

Finn glanced at the Latina over his shoulder. "What do you think about her?"

"She's a real go-getter, Finn." Rachel answered truthfully.

"So I've been told." Finn murmured, running a hand through his hair.

"What's bothering you?" Rachel furrowed.

"She told me to throw all the clothes I was hanging up in the closet into the fire and go to the gym," Finn took a deep breathe, "you know, in order for her to sell me."

Rachel let out a soft laugh. "You don't have to either change your clothes or go to the gym, Finn." She assured. "She sounds vicious sometimes, but she really cares about the photographers who she represents.

Finn arched his eyebrow. "You mean, she cares about the money which the photographers she represents earn? She also said my pictures were a cash cow."

"Of course, she cares about the money too." Rachel answered frankly. "She's in a position to provide for her staff and the photographers she represents in a way. But she doesn't ever force you to do what you don't want to." She put her hand on his arm to reassure. "You don't have to decide right away, Finn. Why don't you talk to Matt, if you like?" She pulled her notepad and Sharpie out of her purse before scribbling down the name of the hospital where Matt had been admitting and his cell phone number. "Here." She thrust the paper into his hand, trying her hardest to ignore that she felt the brush of his fingers.

Finn nodded and stared at the paper in his hand before giving her a lopsided grin. "Thanks."

Rachel cleared her throat. "Now, go talk to Will. He wants to make the rounds with you." She pointed to her editor in chief who gestured for Finn to come join. "Go, Finn." She gently pushed him towards the direction.

"You don't come?" Finn asked, looking down at her over his shoulder.

"No, I have to t–"

"Rachel." A familiar male voice interrupted.

Rachel whirled around to see who had called her name was. Finn also stopped himself from walking away from the entrance to see who the voice was.

"Hello, Jesse."

* * *

><p>"Isn't he in LA or something right now?" Tina asked in a low voice. "Rachel told us he would be back to the City next month."<p>

Mercedes just shrugged.

"Who are you talking about?" Kurt called out from behind them before deliberately sitting on a high chair.

"Jesse St. James." Tina informed, nodding to the bar counter where Rachel and he were talking with Will. "He's a jerk."

"Tina!" Mercedes hissed as she saw Finn approaching to join them.

"What? It's the truth." Tina retorted, not knowing Mercedes' intention, before turning her head towards Kurt. "Don't get me wrong. He's a real good writer, but definitely not good boyfriend material."

"Who's not good boyfriend material?" Finn cut in as he handed a glass of cocktail out to his stepbrother.

"Jesse." Tina spoke up again. "You should keep an eye on him, Finn."

Kurt furrowed as he took the glass from Finn. "Why does my brother have to do that, Tina?"

"He's a Rachel's ex." Tina spat out in distaste.

Kurt's frown between his eyes got deeper. "What does it have to do with him?"

Mercedes glanced at the taller guy beside Kurt out of the corner of her eye. Yep, he totally got uncomfortable right now, judging by the way of his gesture—he was running a hand through his hair and shifted at the place. He seemed to be at a loss as to wondering whether he should leave or continue to listen to her friend.

"He took advantage of her once or twice." Ignoring Kurt's question, Tina continued talking, turning her head towards Finn. "I've got a bad feeling about this time, too."

Tina would never forget the fact that Jesse used Rachel as much as possible to make his name and dumped her once he found a person who was more 'valuable' to use. She believed that he might be bipolar or something since his articles were really good (unfortunately). Was there anyone else other than him whose character was too far from his (or her) writings?

"Tina, don't make such a big deal out of it." Mercedes tried to break the awkwardness hanging around the four of them. "Will agreed with Rachel on appointing him."

"Is there something going on with you and Rachel?" Kurt whispered in the ear of Finn.

"Uh–"

"He hooked up with Rachel over a year ago." Tina dropped the bomb. She had been annoyed with Rachel's indecisiveness, so she decided to push the other person in order for them to move on or do whatever they wanted.

"Oh. My. Gucci!" Widening his eyes, Kurt hung her mouth open at Tina's revealing. Mercedes face palmed. They were too shocked to notice that Finn mumbled 'it was not hooking up.'

"Just so you know, I'm still upset with you, too, Finn." Tina grabbed Finn's arm not to let him walk away. "You seem nice, unlike Jesse, but it's undeniably true that you hurt her."

Kurt cleared his throat after he had composed himself from the shock. "Alright, it seems like I'm the only one who doesn't know anything about what's going on with my brother and your coworker in a hideous dress."

"Kurt!" Finn admonished for his brother against insulting.

"What? It's true that she's always wearing weird sweaters." Kurt huffed, gently pushing his bang aside from his forehead. "_Of course_, you don't care how awful her attire is since you as dress awfully as she does." He scrunched his nose, pointing to the khaki puffy vest Finn was wearing now. "Anyway, you, Finn Hudson, need to explain. To me. First." Kurt turned to face his colleague and the other editor of _The Musicraker_. "If you'll excuse us." With that, he yanked the arm of Finn to get out of the bar.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! In my original plan, the story will be consisted of 14 chapters or so, and now I'm working on writing down each chapter from its synopsis before I could be busy with my regular job. Which means this chapter practically is halfway, but story-wise, is still the course of development, and the story could possibly a bit longer than I thought it would because of that. Anyway, this chapter is a flashback before Finn met Rachel. I hope you guys'll enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7 – November 2010<strong>

_Opening the door of his tiny apartment, Finn looked around the dark, cold living room. A few piles of his clothes on the couch, the coffee cup, which he had used in the morning, still on the kitchen counter, the rain drop strains of a few days before clearly on the windows. He let out a sigh. If strangers saw his apartment, they thought he was single. He slowly shut the door behind him and carefully dropped his backpack on the empty space on the couch, before walking into the kitchen. There was another proof which made the strangers misunderstand._

_Don't get him wrong. Doing the laundry, the dishes, or any other house chores were definitely not girlfriend's task. He would say the same thing too if he were married. The point was, he didn't care how messy his apartment was since his girlfriend barely spent time with him here._

_He was exhausted. Not just from the work (he had to clear up some stupid coworker's ass who had cut into the wrong sections of the film strip), but also from—everything._

_He reluctantly started doing the dishes, thinking back the time he had bumped into his ex/current girlfriend in the street. Why did he think they could start over in the first place? He could tell that she was banging with his best friend at this very moment._

_Correction. His _ex _best friend._

_Finn first met Quinn Fabray at the summer party right before his senior year in college. He didn't know how long he was holding his breath when he saw her. She was a keen beauty. Why had he not ever noticed her in the campus so far? When their eyes met, she gave him a smile which got his feet cemented in the ground. She giggled at his demeanor and slowly approached him, swaying her hips seductively._

"_I know you." She said through her eyelashes. "Finn, Finn Hudson, right?"_

_She idly traced her fingers on his bare arm. The feather touch made him shudder. Her shiny blonde, the smell of her sweet perfume and her clear blue eyes fixed on his eyes got his heart beat faster._

_He had had girlfriends before. In fact, he had experienced many times that girls had come on to him because he was eye catching. With his height. Not with who he was. Yes, his height was the only thing he stood out amongst the others. That was all, honestly. His football skills weren't good enough to get college scholarships, his music (drums and singings) wasn't good enough to be professional either. His grades were average. And his dream he secretly had kept in his mind never voiced out loud—boys holding cameras usually had been called a creep._

_She let out a soft laugh. "I'm Quinn." She held her hand out for him to shake. "Are you single?" She cut to the chase. All he could do was nod. "I think we should date then."_

_He had fallen into raptures for a while since then. His ex girlfriends were pretty too. But he had never seen a girl like Quinn, he no doubted that she was the most beautiful girl in the world. For that reason alone, he had always wondered why she had chosen him._

"_You're generous and sweet, and of course handsome, silly." Quinn would say to him._

_He had, however, eventually come to realize that her saying 'generous and sweet' was translated into 'he did as she bade' or what his best friend, Biff McIntosh, used to say, 'you've got your prick in her back pocket.'_

_She didn't like that he was absorbed in cameras and taking pictures in most of his spare time, saying that he couldn't earn his living out of it, or he should find employment in a company focused on imaging solution like _Eastman Kodak_ or something, not a local photo studio/DPE store, if he so much loved cameras. She never took his love for photography seriously._

_And she _loathed_ the smell of photographic developer—photographic fixer, to be precise; it was a mix of chemicals included ammonium thiosulfate (you could imagine how stink it was). That was why she barely came to his apartment; he set up a photo dark room in his bathroom._

_She didn't care that he tried to take pictures of her though._

_Not that he did it often anyway._

_He was never good with words. He was not good dealing with feelings and emotions. Especially when it came to women. So he thought she could understand what he wanted to do or say and why he had never given his (secret) dream up, or he could understand her more, if he took pictures of her and she saw the pictures he took. Camera was the form of the way for him to interact with people._

_But whenever he looked into the viewfinder to take pictures of her, he always came to the thought of which she might have not ever opened her up to him. Did she ever love him? More importantly, did he?_

_That was his fault too. He admitted. He might have never been a good boyfriend for her. Because he had never endeavored to open her up to him. He had thought he had better to go along with her demanding manner. Which caused her to get more and more irritated with him, he assumed._

_After graduation from college, things between them got worse. And one day, past two years dating, she dumped him for a guy who working at the same company as she did, _Murphy's Insurance Company_, Columbus branch._

_Little had he known at that time that that the guy was Biff. He found that when she and Biff engaged a year after. To say that he had been dumbfounded was an understatement. Too surprised to get his thoughts straight, honestly. Which was good, though, because he hadn't had to end up being torn by a heartbroken (well, he had moped around with a self pity for a while instead)._

_They, however, broke things off after Biff had transferred to a branch somewhere in Asia. A while later, Finn bumped into Quinn in the street. She cried and cried, saying how she repented having broken up with him, how sorry she had been, and how much she loved him._

_He, having just broken up with another girlfriend, thought that they could start over when she kissed him, knowing in the tiny space on the back of his head that she was a type of a girl who wanted to settle down and he could not fulfill her wish, yet._

_He was pathetic. He knew._

_He was 27 years old now, and nowhere near his dream. Because, look around, there were a bunch of people who were way more talented than he was. Besides, it had been a bit late in realizing what he wanted to be._

_It was in the midst of his junior year in college. So, he had taken extra courses of the department of art, photography, as his minor (his major had been military history (history was the only class that he had been good at in high school, and he had thought that he could understand the situation his late father had suffered from). Nobody knew how he had been overwhelmed when he had seen the other students' works._

_He, however, could never get over the thought of giving up. He just didn't know how to start, or how to give it up. He had been a rover in between for a long time._

_He dragged his feet on the way to his bedroom and plumped himself down on the bed. He took a deep breath as he unconsciously reached for his late grandfather's Hasselblad on the night table. Only to find that it was disappeared._

_He felt his face abruptly turned white as a sheet. He jumped out of his bed and rushed into the living room to pull his cell phone out of his backpack. He impatiently tapped his foot on the floor while waiting for his girlfriend to answer her phone._

"_Did you take my camera?"_

_As soon as she answered the phone, he spat out in an accusing tone. Because the only one person who could possibly take his camera was his girlfriend; she had his apartment's spare key._

"_Don't you have the courtesy to say something nice to your girlfriend first?" She clearly was annoyed with his demeanor._

"_Did you or didn't you?" He didn't care how rude he was, or how arrogant she sounded._

"_Well, I did." She let out a sigh. "Look, there's a friend of mine who's interested in ancient equipments and guess what? It's worth more than 8,000–"_

"_Don't smuggle out my stuff!" He cut in, almost yelling. "And It's not first batch, so it isn't worth that much in the market, for fuck's sake, Q! But for me, money can't buy it. It's my grandpa's! Apparently you don't remember that."_

_She sounded taken aback a little. "I-I'm sorry, okay? I thought it was okay since you haven't used it but just put in on the night table for a long time, like an ornament in the alcove or something."_

_He closed his eyes, suppressing his anger. "Give it back. _Now._"_

"_Um, I can't." She hesitated. "I'm a bit tied up at the moment. Can I bring it back tomorrow?"_

_He snorted. Yeah, right. She was tied up with his ex best friend who had returned to Ohio a few months before. "Fine." He let out a sigh._

_Soon as he hung up, he noticed that he had missed a few calls and texts from his workplace. He groaned as he scrolled the screen to read the texts. He grabbed his wallet and the apartment key and headed for the photo studio/DPE store._

* * *

><p><em>With anger at his soon-to-be-ex-(again)-girlfriend and annoyed with his stupid coworker who had cut into the wrong sections of the film strip <em>again_, Finn walked into a local bar, instead of going back home. He needed some distraction to invade his system to calm himself right now._

_After a half dozen shots of Wild Turkey and a few of Blanton's, he finally felt intoxicated. He began feeling some liberation from the reality. He believed he could fly now. Or was he flying already?_

_When he asked the bartender to bring another Blanton's, a familiar female voice called out for his name. He span around on the bar stool as he found a tall pretty girl with a redhead out there. Ugh, what was her name?_

"_Not seen you here for a while."_

_The girl was one whom he probably had met before. Right, she was one of his girlfriend's best friends._

"_Uh–" Finn rubbed the back of his neck._

"_Would I better feel offended by the fact that you don't remember me?" Giggling, she slid herself on a bar stool beside him. "But lenient as I am, I won't be mad. I'm Vanessa, Quinn's friend." She gestured for the bartender to get her the same booze as he was having._

"_I know you're Q's best friend, right? Sorry, I may be a little bit drunk." He excused, slightly slurred._

"_I see." She smirked. "So, what brought you here?"_

"_Uh, work?" He was not going to tell a stranger (which she was not, but still) anything about his miserableness._

_She arched her eyebrow, but didn't pursue. "It happens, right?" She downed her shot and ordered two more of Blanton's before putting one of them in front of him._

"_A lot, yeah." He gulped the shot she offered. "Did it bring you here too?"_

"_Sort of." She shrugged._

_He raised his eyebrow. Okay, if he didn't have to talk about himself, he could at least listen to her. Not that he believed he had a capacity to do so right now since he was one notch above officially blotto. "Sort of?"_

"_Oh, it's one of those things." She waved her hand in front of her nose. "A boss makes a play on his female worker, and she gets fired after having turned him down." She confided matter-of-factly._

_Finn scrunched his nose. "Really? That's… awful." He really thought it was. "You did nothing wrong, right? Isn't against the Fair Labor Standard Act?" Wow, when did he get to know that kind of things? "Can't you do something?"_

"_I fell into a trap he set up." She shook her head with a sad smile. "The company has a real good lawyer and I have nothing to do."_

"_That sucks." He gestured for the bartender to get them more shots._

_She straightened up on the stool. "Well, at least I have a company." He held her shot glass up in the air with a smirk. "To fucking asshole!"_

_He clinked his glass with hers with a grin. "Yeah, to fucking asshole…s!"_

* * *

><p><em>A big steel hammer repeatedly knocking on the inside of his head forced Finn to wake up. He groaned loudly and shifted on the bed which was… his? Rubbing his forehead with a hand, he did his best to open his eyes to see find out where he was. But he couldn't unravel except that this was definitely not his bedroom.<em>

_He slowly let out a breath, trying not to get his head throb more, as he managed to sit himself up on somebody's bed._

_Then he realized._

_He was naked._

_Shit._

_He didn't remember anything about the last night. Did he sleep with some chick? If he did, who did he do with? And… did the down there function enough to do that? Because he remembered that he had been completely drunk. Okay, that was not the point right now. Who had he met at the bar? Think hard, Finn. Think hard. Oh God, he had a terrible headache. He needed Tylenol or something… Wait a minute. Whom he had met at the bar was one of Q's best friends, wasn't she? What was her name? Mellissa? No. Don't knock on his head! Damn it! Aahh, something started with V… Vanetia, Vannetta, no… Vanessa! Right? Right. Vanessa. Fuck! Did he bang with Q's best friend?_

_Oh, yeah, he did._

_Shit._

_Shit, shit, shit, shit!_

"_Ouuuuuuuuuuch." His panic furthered his headache from a hangover. But he didn't have time to complain of pain. He looked around the floor to search his boxers and clothes. But the only he found on the floor was the boxers, that was to say, his clothes might have been in the other rooms._

_Having put his boxers on, he took a deep breath before wrenching the bedroom door open and walking over towards the living room like a dead man walking._

_Yeah, right. The apartment was Vanessa's. He thought as he found her in her kitchen. She was currently brewing coffee in there._

"_Hey." Finn, only in his boxers, awkwardly called out._

"_Oh, hey. Good morning." Vanessa, only in a big OSU T-shirt, cheerfully greeted._

_Finn frowned. Didn't she have a crippling sense of guilt? Or embarrassment? "Um–"_

"_Wanna coffee?" Vanessa interrupted. "I've been into Kona coffee since I traveled to Hawaii." She turned around to take two mugs from the cupboard._

"_No, I have to go to work. I'm late. But thanks." He looked over the living room to find his clothes. "Um, I didn't mean to take advantage of you or hurt you," he grabbed his clothes from the couch as he spoke before slipping into them, "and I'm really sorry if you feel like used or something like that–"_

"_It's fine, Finn." Vanessa cut in his rattling, giggling._

_A little bit annoyed with her demeanor, but he shook off his thoughts. "No, it isn't." He put his hand into the pockets of his jeans in order to make sure that his key and wallet were there. "Look, I have a girlfriend. I didn't mean to cheat on her, either. I may be telling her I slept with someone else, but I won't mention your name, so–"_

"_It's not like she isn't cheating on you." Vanessa bluntly said before sipping her coffee. "With your best friend."_

_Taken aback at her words, he blinked a few times. What the fuck had she just said?_

_Yes, he knew his girlfriend had been cheating on him with his _ex_ best friend. He was not that stupid. But that didn't mean it was okay for him to cheat on her too, before he could break up with her._

"_You didn't know that?" Vanessa asked with a surprised look on her face._

"_I know, but–"_

"_Then don't take it as it's big of a deal." Vanessa shrugged, continuing to sip her coffee._

"_Y-you don't feel guilty about having slept with your best friend's boyfriend?" Finn stammered._

"_You're really a dumb, Finn." Vanessa snorted. "Your bitchy girlfriend stole my man, twice!" She spat out._

_Finn pulled a face. That meant _she_ had used him. "Um, I don't know you two are still best friends though, I'm sorry about that, and I apologize for my part. But don't get me involved in you two–" He stopped himself in mid-sentence. His girlfriend? Stole? Her man? Twice? Did that mean Vanessa's boyfriend was Biff? He knew Biff had slept around in college, but he had never mentioned the name of Vanessa, as far as he remembered. And after graduation, well, was history._

_He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'm sorry to say this, but this was a mistake, and I'm really sorry. And I'd really much appreciate you not telling my girlfriend about this before we could break things off." He rattled._

"_Are you breaking up with her?"_

_Finn frowned annoyingly. Couldn't she pick up his other words but the last ones? "Look, this," he gestured a circle between Vanessa and him, "has nothing to do with our relationship, at least to me, and as I said a little while ago, I'm going to tell her that I slept with someone else, but not mention your name, and–"_

"_Then we can hook up whenever we want, right?" Vanessa winked at him suggestively._

"_No," Finn raised his voice petulantly, "sorry, but I'm not interested."_

"_Wow." Vanessa blinked. "I didn't think that you were such boring. I should've believed her." She mumbled._

_What the hell had she just said?_

"_Fine." Vanessa dismissed him with a waving hand. "I won't tell her about this. Do whatever you want to with her." She shifted her gaze from him to her cup._

_Finn opened his mouth, but immediately shut it. More talking with Vanessa might be a waste of time. Besides, he had to go to work right now. He was already late. He just nodded and one last time he threw 'I'm sorry' for her before leaving her apartment._

* * *

><p>"<em>I slept with someone else."<em>

_Finn blurted out as soon as Quinn walked into his living room._

_She, however, splendidly kept composing herself at his confession. Which made Quinn Quinn Fabray. Which a part of him admired._

"_With whom?" She asked nonchalantly as she held his late grandfather's camera out to him._

"_None of whom you know." Finn lied as he took the camera from her hands. "And I think we should go our separate ways."_

"_Because of her?" Quinn tilted her head to one side, her face still unreadable. "You love her?"_

"_Who?" Finn frowned._

"_The girl you slept with." Quinn slowly parked herself on the couch before patting the empty spot for him to be on._

"_No, she's nobody. I don't even remember her name." Finn sat on the couch beside her as he carefully put his Hasselblad on the coffee table. "I just, we don't work out. You know we don't."_

_Quinn let out a deep breath and took his hand in her both hands. "Don't you love me?"_

_Finn closed his eyes. "No, I don't." He opened them and looked into her eyes. "Neither do you."_

"_So, that's it?" Quinn smiled sadly._

_Finn nodded. "Yeah, that's it."_

_Quinn let his hand pull away from her before slowly getting herself out of the couch and walking over towards the front door. And before opening it, she turned her head around to Finn. Then said over her shoulder. "I really loved you, Finn. Please don't forget about that."_

_With that, she quietly left his apartment._

_Finn stayed on the couch for a while, recalling the first two years with her, then the latest year with her. Maybe they both had neglected to make an effort to understand who they really were. He, however, thought that they wouldn't work if they tried to understand who they were. He didn't know why. But one thing for sure, was that he would never feel any kind of connection with her. He didn't know how to describe it. Maybe it was so-called 'The One' as most people generally said._

_He stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen to make coffee. He put a kettle on the fire before turning on the radio, which an unknown song by some girls' rock band was on air, but was disturbed by noises since where he resided was not their area._

"… _r guest… New Yor… ditor… zine… Welcome the show."_

"… _d evening."_

"_The Troubleto… new single… that correct?"_

"_Yes, and we… of them… but we decided to make…"_

"…_was fantastic… what do you… from them…?"_

"… _would rather me end up… broken after tries… regretting never having tried."_

_As he perked up his head at the words whoever she was had said, the kettle whistled. He killed the fire before being lost in thought._

_What had she said?_

_Would rather me end up._

_Broken after tries._

_Regretting never having tried._

_She might have said 'I would rather me end up being broken after tries than me regretting never having tried'?_

"_I would rather me end up being broken after tries than me regretting never having tried." Under his breath, he recited the words which the woman of a guest might have told to the DJ._

_This was it._

_He would rather him end up being broken after tries than him regretting never having tried._

_He was going to New York._

_He was going to try to be what he had wanted to be so long._

_Even if he would end up being broken._

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! There's no interactions between Finn and Rachel in this chapter either, but it might be the calm before the storm. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8 – April 2012<strong>

Just having returned from the location hunt in London, Rachel sank heavily on a bar stool at _Figgins'_ and placed her face on the wooden counter.

Thanks to the _Survêtement _team, _The Musicraker_ got the cooperation of _Paul Smith_ and _Vivian Westwood_—they consented readily to use their atelier for photo shootings; especially the rooftop of _Paul Smith_'s former atelier was a perfect place for shootings, you could look over the chimney houses of London suburban. And Finn seemed to know everywhere, not only in London, but in Glasgow and Dublin. She hoped that the things would go on smoothly in London next month too.

"Pêche Lambic." She made her order in a muffled voice.

She, however, was feeling overloaded more than she had thought she would. Other than preparing the Olympics Issue, she would be in charge of not only the Christmas Issue already (she had to prepare herself for brainstorm content ideas to publish), but also recurring regular features in the pages; for which she had to pick up upcoming artists who just signed on with a record company, ever since she joined _The Musicraker_. Which were good, for not only young editors, but also talented but obscure photographers, and musicians or singers for that matter (the editor in chief usually gave young and inexperienced photographers those small pages as a start).

As for those small pages, Rachel had been supposed to make way for new blood, like Kitty or Hormony or Sunshine, only if she had gotten promoted to a senior editor about a year ago. The devil in Tracksuits, however, didn't nod Will's agreement for her to hand over those pages to future junior editors even after Rachel had finally gotten promoted to a senior editor, saying 'let's see how she would be handling her mission which she's given.'

She knew that Sue Sylvester loved to test her workers. The devil sadistically loved to see how far their limits could be pushed and how much they were capable. Determined as she was, Rachel had welcomed the company owner's challenge. She should rather be happy with the fact that she hadn't gotten demoted at that time.

Having said that, she had to travel around the country in a short period of time once or twice bimonthly. The magazine used local radio stations around the US in order as to promoting the musicians (which in a way was a façade, since that was their record companies' business, that was, the substantial reason was to advertise the magazine).

Sometimes, she had an overwhelming desire to scream by being distressed. Excluding making an issue after an issue happen (lots of meetings included), going to see live acts, listening parties for new albums, photo exhibition parties, and sometimes movies premieres too; networking, being always on the lookout for things related to her job, and developing a clear sense of perspective, she scarcely had time to breathe.

"Seriously, Rachel, you've seldom scattered your money on me."

Rachel tilted her face up to see her cousin. She had no spirit to laugh or retort.

Puck opened the bottle of Pêche Lambic and placed it in front of her. "Where have you been?"

Rachel took a deep breath. It had been about a month since she last came to _Figgins's bar_. Right before the location hunt in London, she had been to Portland and Eugene, Seattle and Vancouver for a week.

"Eugene, Portland, Seattle, Vancouver and London, in case you don't know, London in the United Kingdom." Rachel grabbed her beer and sipped it. "I'm sure you didn't miss me 'cause this must've attracted a large number of females." She lifted her beer bottle to the Mohawk.

"Damn. Is that all you've got? You're losing all sense of humor thanks to the devil." Puck retorted at the former of her remark. "And as you guessed, yes, chicks love these kinds of beer."

"Thanks to me." Rachel gulped Pêche Lambic and gestured for her cousin to get her another bottle. "One or two bottles have to be on the house."

"It's Finn, actually." Puck amended. "And I already gave him a reward." Smirking, he put another bottle of Pêche Lambic in front of her and snatched bills out of Rachel's hand.

"That's not fair!" Rachel huffed. "_I_ suggested that you have them in!"

"Then watch your mouth before talking to me." Puck said nonchalantly. "Besides, you know nothing about beer. And how many times do I have to tell you not to wear those kinds of sweater in my bar." With that, Puck disappeared into the back room.

Rachel took a puff towards her bang before gulping her beer as Mercedes called out to her from behind.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"No." Tina, in tow by Mercedes, cried as she saw Rachel's sweater, which a big black poodle was on the front body. "You've been wearing, like, what, ten years? Fifteen years? And how old are you?" She plumped down on a bar stool beside Rachel and shook her head. "I really don't understand. Your taste in music and photography is really good, but–"

"Eight years, actually." Rachel cut in. "I can't help. It's very comfortable." She pouted.

"You're prone to hang on to stuff." Tina mumbled.

"Anyway," Mercedes cut in, "since we don't have to work tomorrow, why don't we have a little fun like we used to when we were interns?" She gestured for a bartender to bring them three glasses of red wine before turning her head towards Rachel. "You need to get rid of your stress."

"I'm not stressed out." Rachel made a face, but earned Mercedes' _I-don't-believe-you_ look. "Okay, maybe a little." She bit her bottom lip.

"You know," Tina took one of the glasses from the bartender, "I've heard that old undergarments should be replaced by new ones regularly, and so should old sweaters, I mean, clinging tenaciously to old stuff doesn't make you happy."

"I buy new underwear regularly!" Rachel huffed. "And I'm happy even though I'm wearing old sweaters."

"Okayyyyy," Mercedes chimed in, sensing that Tina was going to bring up Jesse and Finn, so she tried to distract Tina from going for it, "do you know Artie and Kitty are hooking up?"

"What?" Rachel cried out. " How? Since when? Oh, the coverage in New Orleans?"

"Artie got more in return for the string of beads." Mercedes informed, nodding.

"Oh, I've got more." Tina smirked. "Gossip is my thing." She clapped her hands happily. "Kurt has a crush on Blaine, but Sebastian–" She stopped in mid-sentence as she saw Mercedes tilted her head to one side with furrowed eyebrows, "our art director, Mer, he was accompanying with us on the location hunting in London, too." She rolled her eyes.

"Ah." Mercedes nodded, finally putting his face to the name.

"Yep, that guy is Sebastian." Tina shifted on the stool to get more comfortable. "And he has a crush on Blaine, too."

"Woooo." Rachel understood what Tina was going to tell since she had heard from the senior editor of _Survêtement_ how much Kurt didn't like their art director.

"Kurt and Sebastian are constantly at each other's throats." Tina nodded to Rachel. "You have no idea how hard the trip to London was for me!" She shook her head.

And Tina started telling as to how the two gay men had bickered over everything and nothing once they had gone separate ways from _The Musicraker_ team in London, and as to how she had been stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Poor Tina." Rachel patted Tina on the shoulder. "But at least you have Lauren, right?" She mentioned the name of the head of the digital team.

"Oh, no. She's totally on Kurt's side." Tina sighed before turning her head towards her two best friends. "Can we borrow Artie? You can have Sebastian instead." She pleaded seriously. "You can have Sugar, too, if you like?" She deadpanned as she added the name, of whom was a secretary of the editor in chief, who annoyed every one of the staff and her boss constantly.

"Uh-uh. No way." Mercedes declined immediately, already not liking the art director of _Survêtement_ after she had heard the story of Kurt and Sebastian (and truth be told, she was everybody who was annoyed with Ms. Isabelle Wright's secretary).

"I was just kidding." Tina shrugged. When she opened her mouth to continue speaking, her cell phone went off. "Oh, it's Mike." She announced as she saw the screen on the phone. A few minutes later, she hung up before letting out a sigh. "I have to go. His parents are visiting tomorrow morning." She said apologetically. "I'll make it up to you." With that, she jumped out of the stool and rushed into the street.

"See you on Monday." Rachel and Mercedes responded in unison.

"It sounded like a lot of bother to her." Mercedes nodded towards the unoccupied table.

"Yeah." Rachel agreed as she stood up to change their seats. "But Mike would be happy to listen to her singing the blues." She let out a sigh. "Did you know Sugar and the other secretaries called us a spinster?"

"What?" Mercedes frowned as they made their way over to the table.

"I happened to overhear them when I was in a toilet cubicle." She placed her glass on the table before sitting on a chair. "I don't give a damn what they call me, but sometimes I wonder if I would stay single when I'm older."

"I feel you." Mercedes took a deep breath as she took a seat across her friend.

"Have you ever thought what if you didn't break up with Sam and chose to try a long-distance relationship instead?" Rachel cautiously asked.

"Honestly? I'd be lying if I said I hadn't." Mercedes answered sincerely. "But what's done is done. Besides, a little bird told me a few months ago, that he had a new girlfriend of a model in LA." She shrugged.

"Oh, Mer." Rachel put her hand on Mercedes' and squeezed it. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Mercedes squeezed the brunette's hand back, smiling weakly.

"You know," Rachel began, "every guy whom I have dated, which are not many, always left me." She cast down her eyes and idly traced the rim of her glass. "And I always was telling myself where I went wrong." She let out a sigh. "I know I'm not perfect and I have issues–"

"You did nothing wrong, Rachel." Mercedes interrupted. "You've… we just have not met the right one yet, that's all." She recalled Brody, who Rachel had said she had dated with in college, played her false to take her virginity, and Jesse, who she had dated with for two years, used her to make his name. "Alright, let's not talk about this kind of stuff." She patted Rachel on the hand. "How about going to Karaoke?"

Rachel affirmatively nodded. "Sounds good."

"Let's get going, then."

* * *

><p>Finn sighed with disappointment as he walked into Figgin's bar to find that Rachel was nowhere. Aside from the fact that he had been to London with her and the other staff, he barely talked to her. Since the New Orleans Issue was published, she hadn't seemed to have time (did she have a day off?). While in London, unlike the other staff who had enjoyed the city of London in their spare time, she had always attached to her cell phone (he had no idea as to why she worked so hard).<p>

As for himself, he had a lot of time on his hands, even though he decided to sign a contract with _Snixx_. Or you could say that that was the reason he had lots of time, since his agent, Martin Fong, self-proclaimed 'Photography Junkie,' handled everything on behalf of him. Yet no offers, but heard something positive.

He really wanted to talk to Rachel, about anything (of course, his past included), let alone about cameras and stuff (what she had mentioned at _Dashwood Books_ two months before was very fascinating to him—she might know some artisan who could handcraft mount camera adapters which any models of old lenses for film cameras would be installed in any models of digital cameras).

"You two always seem like being a mix-up."

Finn whirled around towards the male voice behind the bar counter as he found Rachel's cousin with a Mohwak. "Come again?"

"Berry and you. Always mix-up." Puck placed La Chimay Bleue in front of Finn before he could ask. "She's just left a few minutes before."

"Oh." Finn rubbed the back of his neck before pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

"You have to be patient." Puck took a 10 dollar bill from Finn's hand (and of course, he didn't give the change back to the photographer). "Sue is the one who has kept her occupied, I assume, you know, since she didn't get promoted last year."

Confused, Finn didn't quite understand. "Uh, I heard that she'd gotten promoted last year?"

"I didn't mean last October, but April." Puck informed. "Anyway, I guess she tries to prove a point right now that she's the right person for the position. You should know, how intense she can be."

"Uh, okay." Finn nodded, even though he was not following what the Mohawk tried to say, before he noticed that his stepbrother was chatting at the table with Lauren Zizes, who who was a member of the digital team. "I've got to go." He stood up from the bar stool and made his way over towards the two.

"Hey." Finn called out. "You two seem to be having a blast." Smiling, Finn slid himself onto a bar stool beside Kurt before nodding to Lauren as a greeting.

Since returning from New Orleans, Finn had frequented the 7th floor, where the digital photography staff worked, and got used to being around the so-called big mama, although he still was a bit intimidated by her _nobody-asked-your-opinion_ attitude. Rachel might be the only one who could give her a run for the money when it came to refusing to yield to the way of photo retouching. He decided.

"A blast?" Kurt furrowed as he turned his head towards his brother. "Oh, yeah, I would blast him if I'm allowed." He snorted.

"Who are you talking about?" Finn asked as he lightly knocked on the bar counter for a bartender to get his order.

"Sebastian Smythe, of course!" Kurt announced as if the Nation knew that, brushing invisible lint off from one of his sleeves.

"Oh." There was no way of knowing for Finn that his brother of a senior editor of the fashion magazine was griping at her as to how their art director had been mean to him.

"What? Where are you going?" Kurt perked his head up and cried as he saw Lauren jump out of her bar stool.

"I've heard enough. Now bonding time for brothers." Lauren approached the taller guy before patting him on the back. "Good luck with him. I'm off." With that, she heroically walked away from Hudson-Hummel brothers.

Kurt sighed. "I thought she was on my side." He mumbled.

"Why did she have to be on your side to begin with?" Finn asked, taking a bottle of Guinness from the bartender.

"Sebastian rubs it in what he did this and that with Blaine, I–" Kurt stopped himself from continuing, blushing furiously, as he realized what he was going to reveal to his stepbrother.

Finn raised his eyebrow before smirking. Nothing did he say, he turned his head away from his brother and sipped his beer, still around his lips with a smirk.

Annoyed with his brother's demeanor, Kurt straightened up on the stool, clearing his throat. "Alright, It's not that my love life is the state secrets. I like Blaine." He confided.

"Are they a couple?" Finn asked, recalling that Blaine and he were the only ones who had not said anything about their dating life when the boys had discussed women's boobs in New Orleans.

"I don't know." Kurt mumbled. "But they have apparently gone on a date a couple of times, judging from what That Bitchlet's remark."

Finn raised his eyebrow at his brother's word. "What did he do?"

"Let's say that he asked Blaine out _after_ he got to know that I had a crush on him." Kurt informed. "Lauren said that Sebastian had never been interested in Blaine before I got a job at _Survêtement_." He huffed, shifting on the stool. "For two, he throws cold water on me whenever I open my mouth."

"Maybe he likes _you_, not Blaine." Finn pointed out. "Like kids usually do mischief to the others who they like. I've been there too." He gulped his beer before ordering another bottle. "He could possibly play the game."

Kurt scrunched his nose, shuddering. "No way. Uh-uh. Besides, what, are we seven years old or something? We're 28, Finn! Who does such juvenile?" He shook his head. "And since when did you get to be an expert on 'playing the game'?" He air-quoted, but he immediately regretted as he saw his brother's face fell. "Sorry, I didn't mean that." He sighed. "How is it going with Rachel?"

"Nothing changes." Finn shrugged. "I think she's been busy for the Olympics Issue and stuff. And she, I don't know, seems busy in her spare time too."

"Is that because of her ex?" Kurt cautiously asked.

"I hope not." Finn answered seriously. "Mercedes said that she's studying digital photography, like, for her dear life."

"Why? She's not one to take pictures." Kurt furrowed. "Or an art director, either."

"You know how much _The Musicraker_ lays weight on photography." Finn said between sipping his second beer. "I don't think she likes to do her job half-assed."

"She doesn't look like happy unless she comes in first." Kurt didn't mean to be mean to the brunette, but, he couldn't help. Because, other than she was one of Tina's best friends, he didn't know what she was like except that Lauren had called her a pain in the ass since the brunette was so demanding on photo retouching.

Finn frowned at his brother's tone. "You don't know her."

"You're right. I don't know her." Kurt admitted, saying apologetically. "So, that means that you couldn't sit there and talk with her about, you know, _that_, until the Olympics Issue is published, doesn't it?"

"I guess so." Finn stared at the space.

"And you're going to wait for the time coming?" Kurt pushed his cocktail glass aside and leaned forwards his brother. "Aren't you going to be dating with someone else? You know, Carole's worried about you."

Finn groaned. "Not dating with anyone else right now doesn't mean I won't get married in the future." He massaged his temple with a forefinger. He was not going to date with anyone else. He wanted Rachel. He could wait until she would get to be disposed to listen to him. "What about you? What are you going to do about Blaine? I'm going to watch a ball game with him at my place next week. You can join us if you want." He suggested, not sure that his brother was interested since he was not interested in any sports.

"Hmmm." Kurt tilted his head to one side, his fist resting on his chin, before finally deciding. "Alright, I'm in. I'm going to surprise you two with my homemade dishes."

"No tofu, less vegetables. Or I'm not going to allow you to come in." Finn said seriously.

"Fine." Kurt reluctantly affirmed. "You need to ask him what his favorite is instead."

"I'll try." Finn nodded. "Now, another round?" He gestured to Kurt's empty glass before beckoning the bar staff to get their orders.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9 – May 2012<strong>

Rachel Berry considered herself a born editor.

For one, she was a sun-bringer. See how sunny it had been in London. _In London_! Ever since when she joined _The Musicraker_, she had never gotten caught in the rain when doing outside photo shoots (okay, she had once or twice caught in the snow, to be honest).

And with her organizing freakness, she could get the London coverage done smoothly.

Well, except for a few 'scratches.'

The tiny space in the back of her head noticed that there was something wrong with Jesse. Sure, he had never missed taking part in the meetings before coming to London. Conversely, he had arrived late more than thirty minutes after the appointed time at the John F. Kennedy International Airport.

She hadn't unleashed her resentment on him, though he had been a nuisance to the other members of the August Issue teams (_The Musicraker_ and _Survêtement_ both), since they had had to quicken their feet to the boarding gate. It was not like their writers had always met the deadline or he had never been late on a date with her before.

The number two. He had made a slip of the tongue a few times, like wrong titles of films or songs called, when interviewing Danny Boyle, Guy Ritchie, Bruce Robinson, Shane Meadows and Mark Herman. Still, she had gotten him off the hook, since he had had to interview a lot of directors in a short period of time. She had immediately put a handout of their filmography on his knees for him to be able to amend, might she added.

And only one day, but one day, he had worn a heavier Eau de Cologne than usual, as if he had soaked in the perfume bathtub. Naturally, the other crew had pulled a face by it.

Meanwhile, she had recognized that he had had alcohol on his breath. Which reminded her that he had asked a flight attendant (five or six times, as far as she remembered) to bring some bottles of wine or Whiskey on a plane to London. However, she dismissed the idea, since the flight would arrive at Heathrow at night. They were supposed to go directly to the hotel and they wouldn't need to work on the rest of the night.

Anyway, other than those, she would say that the London coverage had been very successful. And today, they had finished the last photo shoot and all they should do was packing their bags and going to sleep.

Suddenly, fatigue had started taking its toll on Rachel. Too exhausted to sleep. She needed alcohol in her system. She dragged her feet over to the hotel bar and sank onto a high chair at the counter.

When she was about to order her third glass of Sauvignon Blanc, a female voice which she assumed was Mercedes' called her name. She saw her best friend rushing into her with a slightly panicked look on her face. "What's wrong?" Frowning, she asked.

"They've got into a punch-up!" Mercedes informed, panting, her hands on her knees. "Finn and Jesse!" She added as he saw Rachel wearing a confused look. "At a pub a few blocks away from here."

"W-why?" Rachel jumped out of the high chair. "How did that happen?"

"I don't know." Mercedes answered honestly as they got out of the hotel in a rush to come running to the pub where she guessed the boys sill were at. "I got a call from Artie when I was in my hotel room. He just told me to get you to come."

Still confused, but Rachel followed the other editor. "We're gonna have to figure it out then."

* * *

><p>Finn had been annoyed as fuck with Jesse St. James.<p>

Sure, a lot of the people working at _The Musicraker_ had told Finn that he was a great writer. Yet, he had acted and sounded condescending all the way in London, especially when the photo shoots were going. As if he was better than anybody else.

To Rachel's credit, she endeavored to get the douche not to butt into the consultation about how the photos should be retouched between Finn, Mercedes, Artie, Jake, Joe (one of the digital crew) and her. Still, the Jackass kept throwing snide comments at him, like, the photographs he had taken were mediocre, or he couldn't fathom what the theme for the article would be, ignoring Rachel's defense.

Finn, laying himself aside, was quite puzzled as to what Rachel saw in Jesse.

And seriously, when would this guy stop shutting his big mouth? Finn rolled his eyes while Jesse, who was across at the table in the pub, went on and on as to how his _glorious_ articles had gotten attention from the world. Look at the other boys at the same table, they got bored as well and hell. Without booze, he would be going to die.

When Finn gulped his seventh glass of blended malt whiskey and started thinking why he decided to have a night out with him of all people (even though with the other guys too) on the last day in London to begin with, Jesse decided to zero in on the photographer as a next subject.

"So, tell me why you were training your camera on Rachel when you thought she didn't notice, which I don't think she did either. You were doing a good job. Though I have to say that was a bit creepy."

Finn scrunched his nose at Jesse's comment. "I was just taking pictures of the behind-the-scene, not only Rachel." His voice deflated. Because he lied. He didn't take pictures of the other crew.

Jesse arched his eyebrow, looking like he didn't buy it. "Don't get me wrong, she's a great editor, smart and inspiring. But a model? She's not cut out for to be one, you know." He bluntly said, pushing his hair back self-consciously.

Finn furrowed as the other boys, Artie, Jake, and Joe exchanged a look with each other. "Why not? She's pretty." He mumbled.

"Oh, so you like her, don't you?" Jesse folded his arms across his chest.

Ignoring Jesse, Finn excused himself to the other boys as he stood up to be away from the douche as much as possible, and made his way to the bar counter. He gestured for a bartender to get him another glass of Bell's.

"Finn!"

Finn turned his head towards a male voice coming from behind. "Hey, Ryder. Where have you been?" When he was about to ask the bartender to bring the same booze for his photo assistant, Ryder cut him off.

"I-I'm," Ryder looked like on the verge of tears, "sorry, really sorry, Finn. I–"

"Whoa, calm down." Finn put his hand on the assistant's shoulder. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I-I might have broken your equipment." Ryder blurted out with tears.

"Y-you what?" Finn gasped. "Are you sure?"

Ryder squeezed his eyes shut before letting out a deep breath. Then he began to explain what had happened when he had removed the equipment from a photo studio after the last photo shoot. "I thought it was okay at that time, which obviously wasn't." He drooped with disappointment before speaking in a snuffle from tears. "I'm so sorry, Finn. I-I'll pay for it out."

Finn felt his blood boiling. He beckoned the bartender to get him another shot before gulping it down. "That was absolutely not your fault, Ryder." With that, he strode towards the table where Jesse and the other guys still were sitting at.

When he stopped in front of the douche, he gave him a fierce look and said in a low voice. "I have a few words with you."

Jesse narrowed his eyes. "Well, I don't." He brushed Finn off and continued having his drink.

Finn ran out of patience. He threw the glass off from Jesse's hand before grabbing him by the collar. "You wanna step outside?"

"What a savage." Jesse attempted to tear Finn's hand away from his shirt, but Finn started dragging the curly haired man to the outside of the pub.

While Jake and Joe, who had been taken aback a little between Finn and Jesse, jumped out of their chairs and tried to separate the two from each other as flustered Rider froze at the place, Artie pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to reach for Rachel. "Damn it!" Rachel didn't answer her phone. So, he tried to call Mercedes.

"Get Rachel!" Artie yelled once Mercedes answered. "They've got into a fight!"

* * *

><p>"Why don't you take care of him?" A dozen glasses of Whiskey were finally getting to him, Finn blurted out, before wincing by feeling the coldness of the ice pack which Rachel did gently put on his right hand.<p>

Rachel let out a sigh. "He can write with a swollen face, or a broken nose, but you can't hold your camera with this." She lifted his bruised hand a little.

"Otherwise you can't get what you need." Finn didn't mean that. But he still was pissed at Jesse St. Jackass.

"Don't be a jerk, Finn, you know what I mean." Rachel alarmed. "Yes, _The Musicraker_ couldn't be published without a photographer, which means you _are_ important for us." She shook her head and parked herself on the couch beside Finn in Finn's hotel room, his right hand still in her hands. "But your hands are not just your livelihood. These are like alternative to your words. I mean, taking pictures is not only for the sake of money, right?"

Finn closed his eyes, trying his hardest to suppress his urges to hold her tight and kiss her like crazy, but just enjoying the feeling of Rachel's warm tiny hands on his right hand, while she spoke.

When she stopped talking, he slowly opened his eyes and bored into her big chocolate colored eyes as he squeezed her hands with his left hand.

Rachel couldn't tear her eyes off of his. She felt her heart violently beat fast. _No, Rahel, don't let your feelings take control!_ She cleared her throat. "I've got to go."

"Don't go." Finn slurred, opening his eyes and grabbing her wrist with his unbruised hand as she was about to get out of the couch. "Stay."

"Finn, I can't." Rachel attempted to brush his hand off from her.

"I'll behave." Finn pleaded as he gripped his hold of her tight before pulling her closer to him.

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. Those puppy dog eyes! That was unfair! She shook her head before taking a deep breath. "Fine. Until you fall asleep."

"That's all I ask." Having put the ice pack on the coffee table, Finn gently led her to the bed before placing her and himself on it. "Good night, Rach."

"Good night, Finn."

* * *

><p>Finn was dreaming. About Rachel. He deeply inhaled the smell of her as he hugged the long pillow shaped a tiny figure like Rachel from behind. He idly ran his fingers around the middle of it, which was pleasant to the touch. He unconsciously slid his hand between the pillowcase and the body.<p>

Hmm. This was nice. As if it were Rachel's smooth skin. His hand traveled to the north until they met two small soft protuberances. He half-opened his eyes and found the pillow really look-alike Rachel, which gave him a boner.

"Finn, we can't."

"Yes, we can."

This dream was so fucking real. The pillow, which looked like Rachel, spoke. Honestly, he had waited this for a long time. If he couldn't be with her right away, he wanted this even if in his dream. He slowly peeled away the fabric covered the pillow and touched its small mound with a hand.

He tilted his head up to see her face, pleading for her to let him continue. She nodded with a sheepish smile before he captured the top of the mound with his mouth and rolled it with his tongue. He heard a moan, which encouraged him to navigate his hand towards her wet fold, his lips to her neck, her mouth, and the underneath of her ear as her hands unbuttoned his shirt, then unbuckled his belt.

Once she undid his shirt and his belt, he yanked his jeans down and took his socks off. He positioned his large frame between her legs as he hooked his fingers on the thin string of her undergarment. He lifted her legs up and pulled them off before dropping his mouth on her calf then her thigh.

When his lips finally reached her center, he heard a whimper from her mouth. Her finger threaded through his hair while he tasted her. Fuck. He needed to be inside her right now. He abruptly pulled himself from her before rummaging a condom in his wallet in the back of his jeans. He rolled it down his shaft once he grabbed the plastic packet and ripped it off. Then finally, finally he slid himself inside her.

He pushed her bang aside from her forehead and kissed all over her face while gently thrusting in and out. Her calling his name got him harder he had never been before. He guided her legs to hug his neck, which cause him to get deeper penetration and her walls started clenching around him. He slid his hand between them and rubbed her clit to spur her on to coming for him.

And she came.

And he came right after she did.

He panted and buried his face in her neck before something warm and wet falling on his cheek. He lifted his face up to see her face, only to find her eyes watering.

"Oh, baby, don't cry." Finn wiped beneath her eyes with a thumb. "Please, don't cry." He gently planted his lips on her cheeks and her lips. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."

He spooned her tightly from behind and drifted off, inhaling the smell of strawberry.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean that he's checked out?" Rachel asked, leaning forward the front desk.<p>

"Mr. St. James has checked out earlier this morning." The desk clerk repeated in a businesslike manner.

"B-but, what time exactly did he leave?" Rachel held her head in her hands before turning it around to the other senior editor of _The Musicraker_. "Mer, would you please try to call him?" Then she turned to the clerk. "May I look around the room where St. James stayed?"

"Sure, Ms. Berry." The clerk handed the room key out to her.

"Kitty, come with me. Guys, please wait here." Rachel turned to her other best friend. "Tina, you guys can go ahead to the airport. We'll catch up later." With that, she and her editorial assistant headed for the room on the 6th floor.

* * *

><p>Rachel remembered the day she had gotten a call from her daddy, Hiram Berry, breaking down. She thought back now, there had been some first hint of the symptom her dad, Leroy, had shown when she had been back to her parents' house in New Jersey during Hanukah three years before.<p>

Rachel, Hiram and even Leroy, however, had ignored them. More precisely, Leroy had dismissed off his significant other's and their only child's concern, claiming he had been just too busy and tired with his work. Sure, the hint had been nothing but a blink and his body function had immediately returned to normal. So, Hiram and Rachel bit their tongues, holding their bad feelings back.

It turned out that Leroy had had a minor stroke at that time. Three months later from the day the very first symptom had surfaced, he had had a bigger fit. There had been no mending. He had just been gone. At the age of 55.

Sometimes Hiram had found an outlet in the name of anger at himself _and_ Leroy for all his sorrow. He might have blamed Rachel for Leroy's death too. She couldn't censure it for him, though. Because you could easily imagine how hard Hiram had beat himself up, how deep his grief had hit him.

But this?

This was all her fault.

The one who should be blamed first was Jesse St. James. She knew. But if he would be nowhere to be found in any minute, she should be the one to be blamed. That was why she was summoned to be in 10 minutes at the largest meeting room of the company on the 14th floor where normally only the stakeholders and the board members used.

Rachel took a deep breath before pushing the heavy oak door open.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Rachel's got in trouble :(**

**Please review :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! I'm going to mention the name of Shelby Corcoran in this chapter, but she's not Rachel's mother in this story and I don't think she will interact with Rachel much.**

**Disclaimer: I don not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10 – June 2012<strong>

"Alright, Dwarf. Let me get this straight."

In the huge boardroom, Sue Sylvester, who was installing herself in the executive chair at the end of the table, her secretaries, Beckey and Bree standing right behind her, started speaking through a bullhorn. Rachel, straightening up on one of the chairs at the other end of the table, was trying to maintain the dignity of her having worked on so hard up until the very moment. Will Schuester was sporting a sympathetic look at his senior editor.

"You are the one who made the decision who would write the special feature for the Olympics Issue. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I am." Rachel simply answered, trying her hardest not to get fidgeted with a squeaky sound coming from the bullhorn.

"I'm responsible for that, Sue." The editor in chief of _The Musicraker_ cut in.

But the devil in a blue Tracksuit immediately held her hand up in the air for Will not to interrupt. "You have no right to speak unless I finish. Besides, I don't trust a man with curly hair." Sue turned to look at the brunette and continued. "And Mr. Jesse St. James is the writer you chose."

"Yes, Ma'am." Rachel firmly said, looking straight at the company owner.

"Becky, give me that file." Sue stretched her arm towards the shorter woman with glasses before Beckey put the file on it. The owner did put her bullhorn down on the table and pulled her glasses out of her pocket before slowly flipping through it. "Did you choose Mr. St. James as a writer for the issue, knowing he had committed embezzlement of the TV production's money and stormed his way out of his place in LA?"

"No, sir."

Rachel tried to keep a straight face, but seriously? She felt her face losing color, because, because… what the hell did Sue just say? How did she know that? How did her editor in chief know that? Usually, they didn't do a background check since most of the people in this industry got a job through a personal connection. All they cared was connections.

Rachel met Jesse through a common acquaintance, Shelby Corcoran, who was working at _The New Yorker_. He was a cub writer at that time, having tried contributing articles to the magazine since in college. Rachel was a cub, too, as an editor at Silvester Publishing. One day, Shelby introduced Jesse to her, saying that his writing style was not suited to _The New Yorker_, but to _The Musicraker_, and that his wide range of knowledge about music and films would help. Will Schuester liked his writings, too.

Since then, Jesse came to write articles for _The Musicraker_ regularly. He continued writing for _The Musicraker_ for a while after he and Rachel had broken up, even though he did not do regularly any more. Until he decided to move out of the City to LA, aspiring to write screenplays for TV shows or movies for that matter.

"So you're telling me that you didn't know that he had a drinking problem either?" Sue's voice slightly held a hint of accusation as she took off her glasses.

"I-I didn't."

Sue raised her eyebrow. "Why the hesitation?"

She knew that it would not be advisable to keep anything from the devil in Tracksuits. Rachel slowly let out a deep sigh before telling the company owner about everything and nothing that she had been on her mind in London.

* * *

><p>"How's she doing?" Finn, who had been on the 7th floor, asked Mercedes once he returned to the 5th floor, where the staff of <em>The Musicraker<em> was working.

"It's been almost two hours since she went up to the boardroom." Mercedes sighed. "I don't think it's going well."

"I shouldn't have hit him in his face." He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, as he plumped himself down on the chair at Rachel's desk, which usually had been organized, but now was a mess, scattering DVDs, CDs, and something relevant documents for the Olympics Issue.

"He deserved it." Mercedes reassured. "Besides, I don't think you're the reason as to why he jacked up and disappeared." She turned her head to the blonde assistant, who happened to pass by the two of them. "Kitty, did you get hold of him? Or anyone who knows him?"

"Um, I've got a TV producer." Kitty hesitated, changing her grip of the heavy files around her chest to avoid slipping them down.

Mercedes frowned, miming for the assistant to go on. "So? Did you find anything?"

Kitty roved around the editorial room before putting the files down on Mercedes' desk and speaking. "Uh, the producer guy said," she cleared her throat, "Jesse took liberties with the money that the producers pooled."

"What?" Mercedes and Finn cried in unison.

"That's no the only one." Kitty leaned the partition between Rachel's desk and Mercedes' one. "He was being stuck on writing scripts and ended up escaping into alcohol. They are making a frantic search for him, too."

"No wonder." Mercedes mumbled before shaking her head. "I don't understand." She folded her arms across her chest. "He might have thought he could be back on track if he took this job, but why did he disappear then? I mean, before he could finish writing?"

"Because he ran out of inspiration?" Kitty shrugged.

"Yeah." Mercedes agreed. "But, again. Why did he take the offer if that's the case?" She looked up at the ceiling, thinking something was missing.

"He had to know the producers were coming to the City to find him, so he needed to get out of here. With other person's money." Finn reasoned, idly playing one of the Rachel's stuffed animals on her desk.

"Maybe." Mercedes still was sporting _that-doesn't-make-sense_ look on her face. "But, don't you think he should've gone to anywhere but here in the first place? I mean, I wouldn't return to the City. New York is the first place the producers come to look for him. Why did he run the risk of having returned? He came back to the City over two months ago, right?"

"The only thing you have possible–"

"Rachel is the reason…" Mercedes mumbled, cutting Kitty off.

"Rachel?" Finn frowned. "What does she have to do with it? I know she dated the douche before, but he didn't seem to want to get back together with her while we were in London." He unconsciously squeezed the stuffed monkey. "Neither did she." He added under his breath.

"No, not that one." Mercedes started pacing around. "I have a very bad feeling about this." She mumbled before stopping and turning to see Finn and Kitty. "He was always trying to take something from her. And I guess he might have done it this time, too."

* * *

><p>"So, are you saying you haven't either considered arranging a replacement, or counseled him to mend his ways?" The company owner continued to pursue.<p>

"I–" Rachel shifted on the chair, knowing what was coming next, "didn't think that it will be in its best interest to allow someone else to replace Mr. St. James on the course of the coverage."

Sue leaned back into the executive chair as she crossed her legs. "Which means," she narrowed her eyes, "you didn't have a Plan B. What if he was admitted to hospital because of acute gastroenteritis? What if some moron caused a fatal accident and he died? Why didn't you hire an assistant for him?"

"He told me," Rachel cleared her throat, "Mr. St. James told me that he's got his own assistants, and he's never brought them with him to meetings or coverage tours." Which was true. Granted, it was no excuse. She knew.

"That's where you're wrong."

Rachel didn't say anything. Generally, young freelance writers didn't have their own assistants. And she was sure that she might be told that it would be her job to make do on within their budget if she raised the issue of the budget to hire an extra assistant.

Sue irritably rolled her eyes as she saw Rachel pursed her lips. "Now tell me about the last day in London. When was the last time you saw him?"

Rachel let out a breath. "After the fight between Mr. St. James and Mr. Hudson, we all walked Mr. St. James to his hotel room. Around 11 pm. That was the last time I saw him." She informed in a businesslike tone.

"Hmm." Sue put her glasses on and held her hand towards the other secretary. "Bree, give me the file." After Bree did as she was told, the company owner peered the senior editor over her glasses. "According to the story I've heard, you went directly to the room where the Gigantor stayed after all of you have returned to the hotel."

"I gave Mr. Hudson medical treatment." Rachel felt her heart beat pounding louder. There was no way in hell that Sue had to know what had happened between Finn and her after the treatment.

Sue's eyes formed into a slit suspiciously. "Mr. St. James got a few cuts on his face, too, didn't he? Who bound up his wounds? Or why didn't you take him to the hospital? He would've filed a suit, don't you think?" She slammed the file down on the table.

Rachel jumped up a little in the chair by the vibration from the impact on the table. "Mr.–" She cleared her throat, "Mr. St. James got into a tangle with Mr. Lynn on purpose, which caused Mr. Hudson's equipment on the fritz." She tucked a pile of her hair behind her ear. "I believe that _we_ should rather file a lawsuit against Mr. St. James."

"Oh, believe me, I'm working on it." Sue snorted. Then she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward on the table. "More than anything else, I'd like to talk about your relationships with Mr. St. James and Mr. Granny Panties. Haven't you heard the saying: Don't shit where you eat?"

Rachel swallowed thickly.

"Mr. St. James and you have a history, is that correct?" Sue folded her arms across her chest as she leaned into the chair again.

"Yes." Rachel's voice deflated.

"And you're having relations with the Gigantor, is that correct?" Sue was ready for blaming the brunette's personal life on the trouble which Jesse had caused.

Rachel was on verge of tears. Her eyes cast down, her biting the bottom lip.

"I take it a yes." Sue slowly turned to look at the editor in chief. "You've told me that the Gigantor disappeared for no particular reason, despite the fact that he had gotten a job at the end of the year 2010, is that right, Will?"

"That's true, but," Will tried to save his editor's ass from the worst possible scenario, "he left before he could sign a contract, didn't even start working."

"That's not important here." Sue rolled her eyes before turned to see the senior editor. "From the story that I've been told, right before Hudson left, you had relations with him, too. Is that correct?" Sue asked in a direct tone.

Tears falling on her cheeks, Rachel answered between in a snuffle. "That is correct."

"Don't you think that your relations with the giant and Mr. St. James got you to lose your grip? Which is to say that you passed over Mr. St. James' problems because of it?" The company owner concluded more than sounded asking.

"No!" Rachel raised her voice. "Yes, I might have let his problems pass, but that's not because we once were a couple," she put her hands on the table, trying to suppress her emotions, "but because it was all I wanted do for the coverage to go well or finish without–" she paused as she cast down her eyes before mumbling the last word, "trouble."

"And it caused us huge trouble, didn't it?" Sue concluded bluntly.

"Yes, it did." Rachel admitted in defeat. "I'll take the consequences."

* * *

><p>Rachel rushed into a cubicle in the ladies' bathroom, avoiding anyone could see her crying. Once she was settled in the quadrilateral box, she dropped her face in her hands and started weeping silently.<p>

She didn't know how long she had been in there. But, she couldn't hide in here forever.

When Rachel tore off a length of toilet paper to wipe her eyes and was about to emerge out of the cubicle, female voices entered the ladies room.

'_Wow, I never thought that she could twist guys around her little finger.' _Which Rachel thought was Harmony. _'I mean, look at her face.'_ She heard Harmony mocking. _'He got her this time though.'_

'_But, you've got promoted to a junior editor thanks to her.'_ Which voice Rachel assumed was Bree's. _'She's got demoted to the same position as you, so she can't boss you around any more.'_ Bree pointed out nonchalantly. _'Or, she could possibly get fired if she couldn't find him or a replacement to write the article.'_

'_Right. Do you think she still has relations with Finn, by the way?'_ Harmony's voice sounded smug.

_'She said nothing when Sue asked in the conference room.'_ Bree informed. _'But, judging from her expression on the face, there's something going on between them.'_

'_Hmm.'_ Harmony paused for an eternity before declaring. _'It's worth trying.'_

Bree let out an empty laugh. _'What a bitch.'_ Rachel heard a sound of Bree's slapping her colleague on the arm.

'_You know me, I always get what I want.'_ Harmony announced full of herself.

After Harmony and Bree went off from the ladies room, Rachel slowly opened the cubicle door. Then she looked at herself in a mirror as she touched her own nose, her lips and her cheeks, with a hand. She took a deep breath, but shook her head; She had tons to do right now. No time for self-pity.

Rachel held her head high as she emerged out of the ladies room.

* * *

><p>"Don't bother." Mercedes stopped Finn from going up to the reference room.<p>

Finn had just heard from Artie that Rachel had been lodged in the reference room recently. "Why not?" He protested. "I'm really worried about her."

Mercedes smiled sadly. "She's in dead trouble right now." She started. "She doesn't need another–" She bit her tongue. She couldn't broach the whole story, as to why her best friend used the reference room as her bedroom, why she had gotten demoted to a junior editor, and why she had avoided Finn.

Not only had Rachel gotten demoted to a junior editor, but her pay had been cut 30 percent because of the London debacle. On top of those things, she just found that Jesse had withdrawn all her saving from her bank account using her laptop, which Mercedes and Rachel assumed had happened while Rachel had been in the hotel room with Finn on the last day in London.

All of those things caused Rachel to have to look for a smaller apartment in a month. She, however, had no time. Because she had over 20 pages of the special feature article for the Olympic Issue to write; she decided to write it by herself. The deadline would be in a month.

Once Rachel decided to do that, and the editor in chief compassionately allowed her to stay in the reference room and to take over Jesse's job, she began researching every interview the directors had had before, watching the rest of their films she hadn't watched yet, and studying the music they had used in their films. Yes, Rachel Berbra Berry didn't do half-assed. And that was the only way for her to not get fired.

"What? Mercedes. Another what?" Finn asked. "Another distraction? Another stress? You mean, that is me?" He frowned. "I just, want to help her."

"Finn," Mercedes put her hand on his arm, "she has to meet the deadline. In a month. That's not all, you know, the special feature for the Olympics Issue is not the only task she has." She tried to explain without referring the causes which led the brunette to get in trouble.

"She eats?" Ignoring Mercedes' remark, Finn asked. "Artie said she's lodged in the reference room all day and missed her lunch."

Mercedes let out a sigh. "I check up on her every two or three hours, Finn."

"I'll get some food for her." With that, Finn rushed into the elevator in defiance of Mercedes' protest _'There's nothing you can do right now!'_

About thirty minutes later, Finn returned to the company building with a paper bag which vegan sandwiches, fruit salad, vegan yogurt, and large cup of kale juice were in. He pressed the button of 13th floor as he stepped into the elevator. And when he reached the reference room, he softly knocked on the door.

But there was no answer.

Finn pushed the door open and peeked inside the room from the door frame as he found Rachel sleeping, her face lying flat on the one of the desks in there, which a ton of books and documents were scattered. His heart broke. He couldn't wake her up. He silently put the paper bag in the vacant space on the desk, then left her sleeping.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! I don't know how many still are interested in this story, but I have to say that I'm sorry I couldn't update soon. I've been busy with my regular work recently. I think it'll happen from now on too. But I'll try to keep it up!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11 – June 2012<strong>

"I'm afraid that I can't help." Sighed Shelby, who also was trying to reach for Jesse since she heard that Rachel was in trouble because of him.

Rachel felt humiliated since someone—whom she could easily guess it was, or who they were, though she could not say the name out loud since there was no proof—spread a rumor that _she_ was the one to have invited the disaster, like the writer has absconded was because she did shit where they ate.

Some of them whispered that she lavished money on him, or him having made off with her money was in retaliation for that she had cheated on Jesse with another man, which meant Finn, but no one mentioned the name since he was still working for _The Musicraker_. Or, some said, behind her back, like, she had slept her way to the senior editor or something.

She didn't understand how that kind of a twist was sprinkled on the story, but hey, that was what it was.

She used to think that gratuitous rumors or bullying or something like that existed only in the teenage world, not in the adult world. But it did. It hurt honestly, although, unlike her high school days, she luckily had been surrounded by good people at _The Musicraker_. She had never imagined that she would have to bear up with these kinds of things.

She would be told that it sometimes came to bite you, if her dad, Leroy, were still alive. Don't get her wrong. She was definitely not a bully. She was just as strict when it came to schedules, procedures, or deadlines, as some of her friends/colleagues claimed, and sometimes kindly suggested that she shouldn't judge the others' way to work by her own standard.

If that was the reason why some coworkers had made up countless and groundless stories about her and her relationships with Jesse or Finn, she needed to learn her lessons this time around.

Rachel took a deep breath. "It's alright." She stood up from the chair. "If you have a chance to talk to him–"

"I'll call you, Rachel, I know." Shelby cut in, looking up at the demoted editor from her chair. "And if you need any, I'll lend–"

"No, I'm fine." This time, Rachel cut in. "I have some savings in my other bank account. My father helps me with this too. But thank you, Shelby."

After Rachel got out of _The New Yorker Magazine _building, her feet didn't head on her way back to Sue Sylvester Publishing. She began to walk to the nearest subway station to take the #1 train instead. The deadline was in 10 days and she knew that she had no time to waste.

Yet, she needed a fresh air, she needed to be alone, she needed to be away from Manhattan—or the reality. At least for a few hours.

* * *

><p>Finn softly knocked on the door as he peeped into the large room in the Midtown in the City. "Did you want to talk?"<p>

"Come in." Not bothering to look up at the photographer, Santana invited Finn, flipping through whatever documents she had to sign. "And sit." She gestured to a chair in front of her desk, still keeping examining the documents before her.

Finn nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he took the chair. "Um, what do you wanna talk?"

Santana finally lifted her head to see the tall guy before announcing. "I've fired Fong." She lolled back further into her chair as she put her feet up on the desk.

"Huh?" Taken aback a little, Finn blinked a few times. "Why?"

"He was useless." Santana massaged her temple with a forefinger. "All he approached were crap." She pressed her secretary's extension number. "Bring her in." She slowly set her feet down on the floor before standing up from her executive chair and sitting on the desk near to him. "Finn, meet your new rep, Marissa." She nodded to the door where a young blonde was standing.

Finn turned his head towards the door. He got out of the chair as the blonde girl made her way over to him. "Uh, hi, I'm Finn." He held his hand out for her to shake.

Marissa took his hand before greeting shyly. "I'm Marissa. I think you already know I'm your new rep."

"She's really good, Finn." Santana gestured for her to take a chair beside Finn. "She had it out with _AL Intensity_ for you." She circled the desk to perch herself on her chair. "You two are going to Buenos Aires next week."

"What?" Finn frowned. _AL Intensity_ was one of the fastest growing fashion brands in the country—Kurt had told him, he remembered—which he had never imagined he was going to work for. "I don't do fashion, Santana."

"I'm glad that you know _AL Intensity_ is a fashion house at least." Santana rolled her eyes. "Rick Denham, who is the designer by the way, in case that you don't know, really liked your photographs on _The Musicraker_, am I right, Marissa?"

Marissa nodded before turning her head towards the photographer. "He's very excited to meet you, Finn." She scrolled the screen on her phone to check the schedule. "We have a meeting with him at six p.m. on Thursday, and on Friday and Saturday will confer with his staff about the shoot in Buenos Aires."

"What about _The Musicraker_?" Finn protested.

"What about what?" Santana asked in answer, remaining calm. "Don't tell me that you don't know that your contract is not exclusive with them."

Finn ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean that." He looked up at the ceiling. "I know it's not exclusive, but–" He bit his tongue. He's been worried about Rachel, who was struggling for dealing with the Olympics Issue article which she had to write by herself instead of Jesse St. Jackass.

"You've finished your job for the Olympics Issue, so you're free until they need you for another issue." Santana said nonchalantly. "Besides, Matt is going to get back to work soon." She leaned forwards on her desk. "This is a huge chance to put your name on the world map."

"I don't take pictures to be famous." Finn mumbled.

"But you want to earn your living out of it." Santana pointed out. "Grow up, Finn. You can't be picky," she paused before finishing, "yet."

"This is for commercial use, like in adverts and catalogues. But," Marissa followed, pulling the file out of her tote bag to show him _AL Intensity_'s latest catalogue, "they give emphasis on concepts. And Rick thinks you could share the new one with him."

Finn took the file from his new rep and flipped through it. Marissa was right. Not just did _AL Intensity_ sell clothes, but also its philosophy. He sighed. "Fine, I'll do this."

* * *

><p>Rachel perched herself on one of the benches at the riverside in the Pergola area. She loved this place. Since her late father took her here when she was eight. Wave Hill was the only place where she could have a peace of mind. She always came here whenever she felt stressed, heartbroken, lonely, or just sad. She also came to this place when she felt her head almost explode or she wanted to scream just like she did right now. She deeply inhaled the early summer breeze to calm herself and stared at the reflected light on the water surface from the afternoon sun.<p>

Rachel didn't know how long she was sitting there. The closing time would be less than a half hour. She stretched her upper body and stood up from the bench before walking over to the stone rail.

"I've been looking for you."

Rachel let out a sigh. It was not like she forgot that she had told him about this place. She just didn't think that he would remember it or find her here. She slowly turned to see a guy who had talked to her.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" Finn put his camera in his backpack as he approached her. "Why have you avoided me?" He didn't say in an accusing tone, but he clearly looked bothered. "Did I do something wrong?"

Rachel bit her bottom lip and averted her eyes from his. "I left my phone at the office." She said in a low voice. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. I'd rather thank you for the food, wouldn't I? Was that you, wasn't it?" Her eyes still fixed on the reflected light on the water surface.

Rachel knew that Finn had been worried about her since he found her demoted because of Jesse. Deep down, she wanted to throw herself at Finn and cry in his arms. Because, those _were_ the real place she really could feel at peace. More than this garden.

Finn was the kind of person that she had imagined. Even though the fact that he had left her without saying anything before was still hanging in her mind. And she knew that she was falling for him again. Or you could say that she could never fall out of him—that night in London, she had realized (or acknowledged) it. She couldn't resist him when he touched her.

That was terrifying her. She didn't know that was the reason she had cried after they had finished. But one thing was for sure, that she knew that she could never be fixed if he broke her heart again.

She was not supposed to have feelings for him like that, anyway. At least not right now. At least as long as he was working at _The Musicraker_, or until she got Sue's trust back. She couldn't allow herself to say die.

"You don't need to thank me." Finn rubbed the back of his neck as he stood beside her and followed her gaze. "You should take care of yourself."

"And you should stay away from me." Rachel retorted. "You'll get in trouble otherwise."

"Rachel." Finn sighed and turned around to lean against the stone rail. "Those rumors are crap, you know that right?" He looked down at her.

Rachel was about to open her mouth, but bit her tongue. Finn ran a hand through his hair, not sure either how to start to talk or what to say. An eternal silence hung in the air.

"I want to be of your help, Rach, like you did to me." Finn finally opened his mouth. "Let me help you."

"That was not a help, Finn." Rachel shook her head, knowing what he had meant.

Long before, she and Finn had discussed how to install any kinds of film lenses Finn possessed or liked to buy in his digital cameras, and she had said that she had had someone who could make original lens' mount adapters in her mind at that time. She figured it out after having returned from London, and it turned out that the person could not only make adapters but fix his cameras that Jesse had broken. But she didn't directly tell Finn about the artisanal lady named Shannon Beiste. She told Santana instead.

"Besides, there's nothing you can do." Rachel shook her head. "And I guess you'll be very busy from now on. You won't have enough time to hang around at the office."

"You knew that?" Finn asked. "About _AL Intensity_?"

"No," Rachel still stared at the river. "I've just heard Santana got a lot of offers. I'm happy for you, Finn." She tilted her head to see his face before smiling genuinely at him. "_AL Intensity_? That's amazing." But her face soon got frowned as she saw his seemingly unpleasant face. "Aren't you excited? Because _AL Intensity_ is a fashion company?"

"Rachel." Finn let out a sigh. "I took the offer, but honestly? I don't want to go away from the City when it's a difficult time for you." He grabbed her arms to make her turn to face him. "All this crap is my fault, too. I want to do something for you, Rach, I'll do anything for you, to fix."

"No, it's not your fault, Finn." Rachel gently shook his hands off of her arms. "As I said, there's nothing you can do right now."

"Rach–"

"Finn," Rachel interrupted, "he would have done the same thing sooner or later, even if I didn't stay in your hotel room that night." She leaned forward the stone rail, averting her eyes from his. "And that night, we just," she exhaled deeply, "I just caught in a moment and it didn't mean anything. You don't owe me anything."

"It didn't mean anything to you?" Finn whispered with a shaky breath, telling himself more than asking. "I know I should've kept my words or told you everything about what had happened to me before we did that, but Rachel," he tried to get her to see him as he put his and on her arm, "believe me, I was going to see you again to explain everything and apologize when I returned to the City, you know, before Kurt could call me."

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, trying her hardest to let out her emotions. "I believe you, Finn." She slowly opened her eyes and took a deep breath before glancing out of the corner of her eye at a few kids with their parents passing by them and walking over towards the gate. It almost was the closing time. "It seems like our timing is always off, don't you think?" She let out an empty laugh. "I have to go back to work." She started making her way to the gate.

Finn sighed as he followed her. "I walk you to the office."

"I'm fine, Finn." Rachel declined. "I have somewhere to stop by."

"Rach–"

"Finn," Rachel interrupted, "you said you had been lost when you had left. And I get it that you thought you had to solve your problem on your own, right?" She didn't wait for him to answer and continued. "I have to deal with this on my own too. Because," she turned to face him, "_The Musicraker_ is my life, Finn. I don't want to lose my job just because Jesse messed me up. I refuse that will happen. I've worked so hard to get to this point and I have to show Sue my capability and, and–"

"Rachel, I get that." Finn put her hands on her shoulders as he cut in her rambling. "I know you have a lot on your plate right now and I don't mean to bother you."

Rachel nodded. "Thank you for your understanding."

"I hope we can talk when I'm back from Buenos Aires." Finn squeezed her arms.

Rachel smiled weakly. "I hope so, too." She started walking away from him before turning her head to see him. "Good luck on your job with _AL Intensity_, Finn."

"Thanks." Finn yelled. "And take good care of yourself, Rachel."

Rachel nodded and turned to start walking again. Finn stood at the gate for a while, until the back of her tiny figure disappeared out of his sight.

* * *

><p>"What do you think?" Asked Rachel, who had locked herself in the reference room recently. It was getting down to the wire.<p>

"I think," Blaine, who had been helping her to form the article, put down a bunch of printed paper on the table as he finished reading, "this is really great, Rachel!" He gave her a big smile.

"Really?" Rachel wrung her hands, sporting a skeptical look on her face. "You don't need to lie to me just because we're friends. I need your honest opinion."

"Rachel." Mercedes cut in. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I agree with him." She put her hand on Rachel's. "The style of his writing is kind of posh, which I don't like, to be honest. Yours is serious, but it's strewn with honest and fun, you know, your sense of humor. It's very you, and I like it."

"And a little bit critical." Blaine added with a laugh, which he earned a slap from Rachel. "It's a compliment, Rachel. A writer should have his or her own opinion and place it in an article. I meant that was what you've done in this article."

Rachel let out a relieved sigh. "Okay, now I have to go see our editor in chief. Do you think he's going to like it, too?" She saw Blaine and Mercedes frantically nodding. "Okay," she took a deep breath before gathering the sheets of paper from the table, "I got to go." She got out of her chair and walked over to the door before turning her head to see her friends. "Wish me luck."

"You're going to be okay, Rachel." Mercedes reassured with a smile.

"Yeah, he'll be surprised!" Blaine held his fist up in the air.

"Thank you, guys." Rachel appreciated. "I owe you a lot."

"You don't." Mercedes waved her hand to dismiss. "Go, Rachel. We'll wait for you at the bar."

Rachel nodded and emerged out of the reference room with hope.

* * *

><p>Mercedes tapped her finger on the table irritably. It had been more than two hours since Rachel went to Will's office, but there was no sign that she would show up at <em>Figgins'<em> bar. "Why do you think it's taking so long?" She asked to the senior writer.

"I have no idea." Blaine sipped his beer. "I thought that the article she wrote was really good."

"Yeah, I thought so, too." Mercedes frowned. "And I thought Will would like it."

"Guys!" Tina ran into the two of them and put her hands on the knees before taking a deep breath to calm herself from panting. "All hell has broken loose!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Blaine made a face, patting Tina on her back.

"Be prepared to hear this information, guys." Tina looked around to make sure there were no colleagues other than the two in front of her. "After we have returned from London, Sue got her assistants to investigate everything about Jesse and guess what?" She leaned forwards before whispering. "She found out that Jesse plagiarized in some of his articles."

"What?" Mercedes and Blaine cried out in unison.

"Sugar heard from Bree and I heard from Sugar, so it's a bit difficult to tell where the truth ends, but," Tina paused before informing, "Jesse plagiarized some UK magazines and French ones and our company has been charged with piracy by one of the writers."

"Is that why Rachel hasn't showed up yet?" Mercedes asked.

"She and Will were summoned to Sue's office. So, yeah, I think it is." Tina nodded. "I need a drink." She beckoned a waiter to get her a glass of red wine.

"Oh God," Mercedes buried her face in her hands, "this is bad, really bad."

"Do you think Rachel and Will get fired?" Blaine asked, sporting a concerned look on his face.

Tina shook her head. "I don't know, but I'm sure they'll be called to account, unfortunately."

"I will kill Jesse when I see him!" Mercedes banged the table with a fist, which caused Tina's glass almost to fall from the table. "How dare he do to her?" She rubbed her forehead with a hand annoyingly. "Where's Finn?"

"Kurt told me that he left for Buenos Aires yesterday." Blaine answered. "He'll be back to the City in two weeks."

"I gotta go." Mercedes got out of her high chair. "I have to check up on her." She began making her way over the entrance of the bar.

"I'll come with you." Tina and Blaine followed Mercedes.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Puck yelled at them behind the bar counter. "Where's my midget?"

"We don't have time to explain right now, Puck." Tina yelled back at him, and caught up with Mercedes and Blaine outside of the bar, leaving the bar owner wearing a quizzical look on his face.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12 – JuneJuly 2012**

Truth to be told, Rachel was getting her body down rather than seething with anger. Her heart didn't pound the slightest. Looking around in the office, it was as if she was watching TV on mute. Some of the coworkers were busy with coping with a constant steam of phone calls. Some with still talking about her relationships as if it had been on the page six.

But she didn't hear anything. Like the smooth water that she got to ironically—actually she got into hot water. And her friends/colleagues with getting more upset about Jesse than she was, which, oddly enough, made her rather be the one to comfort them.

Well, it was not totally odd. Because, judging by what she had heard, _The Musicraker_ might discontinue at the end of the year, which was not only because of Jesse's incident, Rachel assumed, although Sue used the cause as a pretext to firing her and Schuester. The high appraisal of the magazine had not led to sales, and Sue seemed to be proceeding with preparation for discontinuance of the publication of _The Musicraker_ behind the back of the staff.

Long story short, Jesse provided a wonderful opportunity for Sue to fire Will and Rachel, who were one of the people who had gotten the highest pay. And they were not the only ones who got fired. As did The manager and some staff of the Proofreading Department too.

Which meant that the other staff working at _The Musicraker_ now was in danger of losing their job also.

Rachel shook her head and slowly shifted her gaze to her desk from the editorial office floor before resuming picking up her personal stuff in order to put in a file box.

"So, what are you gonna do now?" Kitty cautiously asked, Artie and Mercedes standing behind her, the senior editor sporting a knowing look on her face.

"I honestly don't know. Start all over, maybe?" Rachel answered nonchalantly, not bothering to look up at her friends.

"But you've gotten a few offers from some magazines, right?" Kitty continued. "I've heard Schuester would teach at NYU, and I thought you were going to–"

"I don't know if I take it." Rachel cut in before Kitty could finish.

"What? Why?" Surprise, Artie asked.

Rachel finally lifted her head up to see her colleagues. She took a pause and then just shrugged with an unreadable expression on her face.

It was true that some magazines had offered a job for her to write reviews about photography books or music as a columnist, or some had offered her a senior editor post. She appreciated that they had showed their interest to her. She really did. But too exhausted mentally and emotionally right after having sent every material for the Olympics Issue to press, knowing that was her last issue at _The Musicraker_, let alone having finished writing the article at the same time the (another) bomb had been dropped, she couldn't bring herself to keep going. Which was unusual for her; she had always hung in there whatever bad things had happened to her.

On top of that, how was she supposed to break the news that she had heard about _The Musicraker_ to her friends?

"Well, I think it's a good thing for her to take a break." Mercedes spoke for Rachel, as if she could read her. "Okay, let's get drunk. I'm sure Puck can't wait for us to squander." She patted Rachel on the back and encouraged her and her colleagues to get out of the office.

* * *

><p>At <em>Figgins' bar<em>, once they settled on the high chairs at the table, Rachel opened her mouth.

"Thank you guys, for your concern. But," Rachel took a pause, "uh, I'm more worried about you guys, to be honest." She bit her bottom lip, her eyes casting down, her fingers idly playing with the rim of her glass of red wine.

"What?" Kitty frowned as she stopped herself from drinking her beer. "What is it? Why are you worried about us?"

Rachel let out a sigh before lifting her head to look over her friends, Mercedes, Artie, Kitty… and she saw Tina approaching them, Blaine and Kurt in tow. "This is not confirmed, but, uh, I think Sue is going to focus on _Survêtement_ and _Athlester_."

"What do you mean?" Artie leaned forward with a frown between his eyebrows.

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut before letting out a sigh. Then she slowly opened her eyes and began telling what she had heard after Tina, Kurt and Blaine had joined them. And all of them gasped as she finished.

"So," Tina started, "technically you and Will were laid off before–"

"—We will get laid off at the end of the year." Kitty finished.

"B-but, are you sure?" Stammered Artie, who was clearly starting to panic, Kitty rubbing the back of him lightly.

"I hope not." Rachel replied sadly before gulping her red wine.

"Becky kind of let the secret slip when–"

"—She went on a date with me." Puck cut Mercedes off, finishing the sentence behind them, as he put the enough beer bottles for each of them on the table.

All of them at the table, except for Rachel and Mercedes, turned their heads to see the Mohawk with a surprised expression on their faces.

"You went on a date with Becky?" Kurt arched her eyebrow.

"I was forced, don't ask." Puck mumbled before clearing his throat. "You'd better thank me that I'm the wise one, you know, I've kept the last date and used it at the right time." He smirked at his cousin as he pointed to his head with a forefinger.

"Yeah, right." Mercedes scoffed. "Having kept the last one led her to tattle on Rachel." She mumbled.

"Same difference." Puck nudged Mercedes in the arm. "Anyway, I've got this." He rubbed his hands in front of his chest before announcing. "I was told that Sue's schemed to oust Schuester and dissolve _The Musicraker_ for years, and caught the target in his right hand-man, which means this dwarf." He ruffled Rachel's hair.

Rachel shrugged his hand off in annoyance. She huffed, combing her hair with a hand.

"Puck!" Mercedes admonished as she slapped the back of his head.

"The fuck, Aretha?" Puck winced, rubbing the back of his head.

Mercedes glared at the Mohawk. "Go on."

"Right." Puck put himself together before resuming telling the story, which was that Sue had gotten Becky and a third party to keep eyes on Rachel and Will (and dig deep into their personal lives), and her eyes had lightened up as if Christmas had come early once the devil in Tracksuits had been informed about Jesse's drinking problem. That was the same time when Will approved of Rachel's choice that the writer for the Olympics Issue would be Jesse.

"So, you're saying that Sue knew that Jesse had a drinking problem, but encouraged Will to use him as a writer for the issue?" Tina gasped.

"That's a trick." Puck took a deep breath. "According to what Becky told me, Sue did just say 'are you sure of him?' or something like that when she consented the budget, because, you know, she had to dodge her responsibility." He rubbed his Mohawk nervously.

"What about his plagiarism?" Blaine asked. "Is that true?"

Puck shook his head. "I don't know, man." He gulped his beer.

"I don't think the Jackass would show up to clean his tarnished image even if he didn't plagiarize," Artie cut in, snorting, "since he's already done a lot of other things."

"What are we gonna do?" Kitty frowned, nervously playing the label of her beer.

"I did put in a word for you guys when I got some offers." Rachel patted Kitty on the shoulder. "All you have to do is send your resume to them." She pulled some business cards out of her purse. "Here." She handed them to the young blonde.

"You don't need these?" Kitty asked as she took the cards from the brunette to take a look at, still plastering a frown on her face.

"No." Rachel shook her head. "As Mer said, I'm gonna take a break for a while."

"That's why Ryder's quit and officially become Finn's assistant today, isn't it?" Artie mumbled before turning his head to face Rachel. "You did put in a word for him to Santana too, didn't you?"

Rachel shrugged before sipping her beer. "Is this on the house, Noah?"

"Hell no." Puck snorted. "My business would be in the dumps."

"You brought these. We didn't order." Mercedes slapped the back of Puck's head again. "Which means these are on the house. Got it?" She demanded.

"The fuck, Mer!" Puck rubbed the back of his head before mumbling. "Yeah, on the house."

Rachel raised her eyebrow as she watched the interaction of the two of them before a small smile crept around her lips.

* * *

><p>Having received texts from Rachel and a few people from <em>The Musicraker <em>and _Survêtement_, Finn's heart pounded loudly. After finally, finally the plane had landed at the JFK and emerged out of it, he shouldered his way through the crowd at the JFK, ignoring the people's jeering at him, not caring that Marissa called his name from behind.

Rachel's text was a short and simple. It said that she left _The Musicraker_ and would take a break for a while. She didn't write either why she left or where she would go (or live, because she hadn't had a place to live before he headed for Buenos Aires). But his stepbrother, Artie and Blaine told more details; she and Mr. Schuester had been forced to resign to take responsibility for Jesse's plagiarism.

After the immigration check, he impatiently tapped his foot on the floor while waiting at the baggage claim before picking up his bags from the carousel. When he was about to rush into the exit, his rep, Marissa, who had tried to catch up with him, called out to him.

"What?" Finn didn't mean to take it out on her, but he couldn't suppress his anger at the douche.

Taken aback, Marissa bit her tongue as she looked down at the floor uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry." Finn sighed. "What was you going to say?"

"Uh," Marissa forced herself to smile at him, "Santana asked me to bring you to the office."

"Now?" Finn asked in annoyance despite himself.

"Yeah," Marrissa answered apologetically. "An ad agency wants to meet you."

Finn groaned. "But it's almost eight." He glanced at the watch on his wrist.

Marissa did say nothing but shrug.

Finn plumped down his shoulders and sighed in defeat. "Alright. Let's go."

* * *

><p>While he was happy that his works were going on very smoothly, thanks to Santana's and Marissa's great competence, he was slightly annoyed that he couldn't see Rachel tonight. It was almost 11 pm when the dinner meeting with the ad agency, Santana and Marissa finished. So Finn decided to call up Kurt to <em>Figgins'<em> instead of Rachel.

And he was surprised as he was told that Ryder had quit _The Musicraker _and become his assistant (to be precise, Santana hired Ryder as his assistant without consultation—not that he was complaining since he liked working with Ryder so far).

When Finn settled on a stool at the bar counter and gestured for a bartender to get him a bottle of La Chimay Bleue, the petulant voice called his name from behind. He span around on the high chair, only to see his stepbrother huffing, his arm crossing in front of his chest. "Hey, Kurt." Ignoring the annoyed expression on his brother's face, Finn greeted, lifting his bottle of beer up in the air, before noticing the guy who Kurt had started officially dating with waved a hand for him behind his brother. "Oh, hey, Blaine."

"What do you want?" Kurt demanded, sitting on a stool next to Finn. "Did you realize that you ruined our date night?" He spat petulantly.

"Did I?" Finn raised his eyebrow. "You didn't mention that on the phone."

"That's because you hung up on me!" Kurt straightened up on the stool, carefully pushing his bang aside.

"Kurt, we can go out whenever you want to." Blaine rubbed the back of Kurt up and down to reassure, which made a pout on Kurt's lips immediately melt into a small smile.

Finn rolled his eyes as his stepbrother's demeanor changed thanks to his crush. "What do you want to have? I'll take care of it." He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.

Kurt tilted his head to one side, his forefinger putting on his lips. "Hmm, I feel like Pinot Noir." He turned his head to face Blaine. "What would you like?"

Finn saw Blaine point to the bottle in his hand. He knocked on the wooden counter to get the bartender's attention to order a glass of Pinot Noir and another two bottles of La Chimay Bleue.

"So?" Kurt began once he took his glass from the bartender.

"So." Finn let out a sigh. "You texted me that Mr. Schuester and Rachel got fired because of the Jackass, right? And I've heard today that Ryder quit _Sylvester Publishing _and Santana hired him as my assistant. What the hell is going on with _The Musicraker_?"

Kurt exchanged glances with Blaine before announcing. "Uh, _The Musicraker_ is likely to going to discontinue at the end of the year."

"W-what?" Dumbfounded, Finn choked. "Because of the douche?"

"I don't think so." Blaine chimed in before filling him in what Sue had aimed. "I think Schuester and Rachel are secretly arranging for the staff to get another job outside the company, and that's why Santana hired Ryder as your assistant I guess."

"Who's gonna be the editor in chief?" Finn frowned.

"I've heard a guy named Ken Tanaka or something will take in charge at _The Musicraker_." Kurt chimed in. "But I think that appointing him to the post is just going to make things worse, which I could tell is Sue's real purpose, since Tina told me that the guy was working as a janitor at the company building and doesn't know anything about music." He held his glass up in the air for the bartender to bring another one.

"What about you guys? I mean, it's not like _Survêtement_ is discontinued, right? But, what're you gonna do, Blaine?" Finn turned his head to face the guy with a bow tie.

"Oh, I have some job interviews next week." Blaine assured. "Or I may be freelancing."

"And I might have had a job interview at Vogue dot com last week." Kurt added nonchalantly as he took another glass of Pinot Noir from the bartender.

Surprised, Blaine made a face at the senior editor of _Survêtement_. "When? You don't need to job hunt. Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not set in stone, but, uh, Isabelle is going to leave _Survêtement_ to be the editor in chief at Vogue dot com." Kurt shrugged. "You know, she's my idol. I'll follow her wherever she goes."

Blaine arched his eyebrow. "Does Tina know that?"

"I'm going to tell her when it's all set." Kurt replied. "Besides, she'll stay at _Survêtement_ no matter what."

"What about them?" Finn cautiously asked. "What are Mr. Schuester and Rachel gonna do?"

"Will is going to teach at NYU and Rachel… I don't know. She said that she would take a break for a while." Blaine informed.

"That's what I was told. But, where is she going to stay?" Finn frowned. "I don't think she has found a place to live in the City yet."

"She'll be staying at her parent's house for a while." Puck answered for Blaine behind the bar counter as he put another bottle of La Chimay Bleue in front of Finn. "But she's not gonna want to see you right now." He added despite Finn didn't ask.

Finn turned his head to see the Mohawk with a frown. "Why?"

"She needs time to pull herself together right now." Puck rubbed his Mohawk as he let out a sigh. "She's… she used to be one to never get anybody or anything in her way." He opened the bottle of beer for himself before starting.

"When she was fourteen, she undid laryngitis surgery, which forced her to give up her dream to be a singer. Yes, she was depressed. But only for two days. After a lot of tears, she picked herself up and declared that she was going to launch neglected artists into the world as an editor, holding a bunch of magazines in her arms with a megawatt smile."

The image of teenage Rachel getting excited holding magazines in her arms in front of her chest brought a smile to Finn's lips.

Puck rolled his eyes as he saw the tall photographer wearing a goofy grin on his face. "And when you left her without a word," he cleared his throat, "don't get me wrong, I don't mean to beat you up, well, I was going to beat you up literally at that time," he made a straight face at Finn, "anyway, when you left, yeah, she got depressed for a while."

Finn shifted uncomfortably on the stool as Kurt and Blaine exchanged knowing looks.

"But, she eventually managed to pull herself together because she had _The Musicraker_." Puck continued. "She never lost her spark in her eyes, whatever happened to her." He took a deep breath. "But this? All that happened this time hit her really hard." He gulped his beer before finishing. "So, she needs time for herself. If you really care about her, wait for her to come around."

Finn let out a sigh and nodded. "But, could you tell me where her parent's house is?"

"I don't think so." Puck was about to leave.

"Please." Finn insisted, grabbing the Mohawk's hand.

Puck winced at Finn's tight grip on his wrist. He let out a sigh. "Fine." He shrugged the photographer's hand off and pulled his notepad out of his pocket as he took his pen from his ear before writing down Rachel's parent's address. "But don't get your hopes up, at least right now." He warned, handing the piece of paper out to Finn.

Finn folded the paper carefully and put it into his pocket. "Thanks."

* * *

><p>"Morning, Princess." Yawning, Hiram deposited himself on the sofa next to his daughter. "When did you get interested in tennis?" He put his mug down on the coffee table.<p>

"Morning, Daddy." She greeted before answering her father's question. "From Day 1, I think?" Said nonchalantly Rachel, who had gotten fired on the day when Wimbledon Championships had started. Although she decided to take a break for a while, she realized how bored she could get without working once she (temporarily) was settled in her childhood house in New Jersey. That was why she had been watching Wimbledon Championships, and now the Gentlemen's singles final was on TV.

"Whom are you rooting for?" Hiram casually asked as he stood up from the sofa to grab some snacks for himself and his daughter in the kitchen. "Have you had breakfast? Wanna Kale chips?" He called out from the kitchen.

"Yeah, thank you." Rachel's eyes were glued to the TV screen, sipping her tea from her old mug. "Murray."

"Because I'm a huge fan of Roger's?" Hiram continued asking as he poured Kale chips into a bowl before returning to the living room.

"I just like rooting for underdogs." Rachel shrugged as she took the bowl from her father. "Besides, Federer's already got six titles here, Daddy." She munched some chips from the bowl in her hands. "Andy's not won a title of Grand Slam yet, let alone Wimbledon's, even though he's very _very_ talented." She punctuated.

Hiram arched his eyebrow. "If I knew you were into tennis this much, we could have been to London to watch actual matches instead." He snatched the bowl from her hands.

"Daddy, the tickets for Wimbledon are balloted in previous years, although I know we could get last minute tickets if we stood in line. You know that more than I do." Rachel retorted as she snatched the bowl back from his father's hands.

"Oh, so you researched." Hiram stretched his arm to steal some chips. "You know, Leroy always rooted for underdogs like you."

"Yeah." Rachel kept delivering the chips into her mouth as her eyes were on the match between the Swiss and the Scot. "Do you," she cleared her throat, "do you think he would be disappointed in me? And are you?"

"Why would he?" Hiram frowned. "And I'm never disappointed in you, you know that." He gently patted his daughter on her head. "You did nothing wrong, Princess."

Rachel let out a sigh. "But I should've noticed his lies." She turned her head to see her father. "Was I being blinded that much while we were together?"

Hiram put his hand on hers. "I don't think so, Rachela. He's just a big bloody liar." He squeezed her hand gently. "And you should know, I will find him and kill him." He announced seriously.

"I don't want you to end up in jail, Daddy." Rachel deadpanned. "And I don't want to be alone." She added in a low voice.

"Oh, I won't get my own hands dirty." Hiram winked at Rachel. "Of course, I'll hire someone to take care of him, and we'll live together happily ever after." He nudged her in her arm playfully. "Smile, Princess, or that worry line between your eyebrows is getting deep." He touched her line between her eyebrows with a forefinger. "And you won't be alone, you know that. You will find the one someday." He hugged her tight and placed his lips on her head.

"Thank you, Daddy." She let his dad hug for a while, her face still towards the TV screen. And they kept watching the match between Federer and Murray.

When the match resumed after the rain suspended early in the third set, the doorbell rang.

"I get it." Hiram sat up from the sofa before answering the door. He opened it as he found the tall guy standing there.

"Um," Finn didn't expect Rachel's father (he assumed) to answer the door, but he should've known since this was his house. Or he should have called her first (he kept himself from reaching for her almost two weeks as Puck had told him). "I-I'm, uh, I came to see Rachel. I'm Finn, Finn Hudson." He stammered, wiping his hand on his jeans.

Hiram arched his eyebrow as he heard his name. "We're watching Wimbledon Men's Final. Wanna join us?" He stepped aside to encourage Finn to enter.

"Uh, sure." Finn stepped into the house, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm Hiram, Rachel's father, by the way." Hiram held his hand for him to shake.

Finn took it before clearing his throat. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Berry."

"You too, Finn. And call me Hiram." Hiram replied. "Rachel! Finn's here!" He yelled towards the living room before turning his head to face the same height guy as he was. "What would you like to have? Coffee? Tea? Beer?"

"Water's fine." Finn let out a laugh nervously. "Thank you."

"I'm going to grab a bottle of water for you. Go ahead, make yourself." Hiram nodded in the direction of the living room before walking into the kitchen.

Finn made his way to the living room as Rachel turned her head to see the unexpected visitor. "Hello, Finn." She greeted, smiling sheepishly.

"H-hi, Rachel." Finn stopped behind the sofa and shifted on the floor.

Rachel patted the empty space on the sofa as she saw him get fidgeted a little at the place to try figuring where he should move to. "Come sit."

Finn just nodded before circling the sofa and perching himself on the sofa next to Rachel. "I didn't know you're interested in any sports."

Rachel let out a laugh. "Me neither."

When Finn was about to open his mouth, Hiram returned to the living room, a bottle of water in his hand. So, he absent-mindedly watched the tennis match with the Berry family (he loved sports, but he never got into individual sports).

* * *

><p>Finally the match having ended (Rachel seemed displeased since Federer won the title), Hiram stretched out his upper body and spoke. "Why don't you guys take a walk?" He suggested. "Or, you could stay here or Rachel's room to talk? I'm going into the den to work for a while." With that, he got out of the sofa and left the young couple in the living room.<p>

"You wanna go upstairs?" Rachel asked after her father had left.

Finn nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah."

Rachel stood up from the sofa to make her way to the upstairs. Finn followed her. He looked around as he entered Rachel's childhood room. He saw multiple photographs on the wall. "Who's this?" Finn pointed to one of the black and white photographs.

"It's Samuel Beckett." Rachel answered as she approached him. "He was an Irish writer, you know, 'Waiting for Godot.'"

"I can't say that I've read that." Finn shook his head. "Who did take this photo? I think I've seen this before somewhere, but I don't remember."

"John Minihan. He's also an Irish." Rachel informed. "Minihan's Beckett photographs are very famous, being called as the photography of the twentieth century, so I'm sure you've seen them before."

Finn glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, only to find her eyes expressionless. "Did he take this photo with Rolieiflex?" Finn asked, his eyes on the photograph, not on Rachel.

"I think he did, yeah." Rachel replied. "This photograph used to be hung on the wall at my late father's office, since he loved Beckett's works." She added in a low voice before whirling around and perching herself on the bed.

Finn slowly turned around to face Rachel. "Um," he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, "how have you been?"

Rachel shrugged. "I'm okay." She looked down at her laps, idly playing with the hem of her flower printed sun dress. She let out a sigh and looked up at Finn. "Finn, you don't need to do this."

Confused, Finn frowned. "Do what?"

"You don't need to check up on me." Rachel shook her head. "You don't have to feel guilty about having disappeared before, I really appreciate that you've been worried about me though."

Taken aback at her remark, Finn blinked. "Rachel–"

"You know, I already accepted your apology." Rachel cut him off. "So, I don't have any hard feelings about that." She took a deep breath.

"Rachel." Finn knelt down in front of her to study her eyes on his eye level, putting his hands on hers. He saw her eyes lost her spark. He let out a sigh. "Rachel." He said again. "I'm worried about you because I care about you, Rach. Not because I feel guilty about that." He exhaled before continuing. "I want you to know that the last night in London meant to me." He squeezed her hands with his. "You maybe think that I didn't remember that night because I was drunk, but I do. And not only in London, but on New Year's Eve, that meant to me, too. _You_ mean to me, Rachel."

Rachel stared at Finn for a moment, still her face lack of expression.

"Rachel?" Finn called out, caressing her cheek with a hand. "Are you alright?"

"I feel tired. I want to go lay down a little." Rachel whispered, her eyes casting down. "Could you, um," she hesitated, "could you stay with me for a while?"

"Sure." Finn let her lead him to lay down with her on the bed.

"Thank you, Finn." Rachel said in a low voice before closing her eyes.

"Anytime, Rach." Finn wrapped his arm around her from behind, staring at the ceiling, wondering how he could restore her eyes to her spark.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! I don't know much about the system as to how to change top managements in the US (I'm so estranged from management or business administration for that matter anyway, so all mistakes are mine), but I'm trying to place that kind of things happening from here, like, with Beiste's help, Rachel, Finn, and their friends are going to try to overthrow the current management team of Sylvester Publishing!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13 – JulyAugust 2012**

Shannon Beiste was carefully listening to the photographer telling as to what had happened to Rachel and Mr. Schuester and _The Musicraker_ so far, while finishing touches on a lens-camera mount adapter for him.

"–Which means, Rachel and Mr. Schuester technically might have gotten laid off earlier, so that the magazine could be discontinued at the end of the year." Letting out a sigh, finished Finn, who frequented Beiste's small work studio in Dumbo when he had no work.

As Finn looked up to see the craft woman's face, she handed the adapter out to him without a word, nor with looking at him. He frowned as he saw her sporting an unreadable expression on her face and looking into the space. "Did I say something wrong?" He cautiously asked, studying her face.

Beiste snapped out of her thoughts and shifted her eyes from the space to the photographer. "Uh, no." She shook her head. "You did say nothing wrong, Finn. I just–"

Relieved, Finn started examining the handmade lens-camera adapter.

"I just don't understand." Beiste continued. She cocked her head to one side with a frown before she neatly put her tools into the metal box.

Too busy with examining the adapter in awe, Finn almost failed to hear what Beiste had said. He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, internally cursing himself, for that he might have explained the situation not so well. "I'm not good with words, so–"

"Oh, no, no, no," Beiste dismissed with a waving hand, "I didn't mean that." She stood up to her full height, which was as tall as Finn was, as she took her work apron off before taking off her magnifying glass from her head too. She put the glass aside on the large wooden work desk and hung the apron on one of the hooks on the wall before pulling her black knee socks back on. "What I meant is," she circled around the desk and sat on the couch next to Finn, her arm crossing in front of her chest, her eyes towards the ceiling, "why does _The Musicraker_ have to be discontinued? I mean, the company boosted profits last year and the circulation and sales of _The Musicraker_ are taking off, you know, in this day and age."

"Really?" Confused, Finn frowned. "How do you know?"

"Um," Beiste ran a hand through her short, black curly hair, "actually, I'm one of the board of directors with treasury stock." She confided.

Surprised, Finn widened his eyes and stared at the middle aged woman before him at a loss for words for a moment. So she began telling him about her relation to the company from the beginning.

Finn learned that her grandfather had founded a small publishing company called JBB Publications, right after World War I, long before she was born. The company used to publish the former _The Musicraker_ named _BMM_, but it eventually got into financial trouble because her father, who had taken her grandpa's place, began suffering from cancer, which was the time when Beiste was about to enter a college. And JBB Publications ended up being consolidated by Sylvester Publishing in the late '80s.

"The position of the board member and the right of the major shareholders are like an inheritance from my father." Beiste apprised before adding. "My mother was a photographer like you, you know, that was how my parents met."

"Haven't you ever thought to be a photographer?" Finn curiously asked.

"Never." Beiste vigorously laughed. "I'm wearing a matching shirt," with a forefinger, she pointed to Finn's blue striped rugby shirt, then to her own different shade of blue colored rugby shirt, "but I'm a mechanic, not an artist." Finn joined her laughter. "I used to play with my mother's cameras and was always scolded when I was a kid. Well, sometimes thanked." She broke into a smile, remembering her childhood.

Finn wagged his head repeatedly, hearing Beiste's interesting background.

"Anyway," Beiste cleared her throat, "this is just an assumption, but, uh," she paused for a moment before carefully speaking, "Sylvester might want to eject JBB family with _The Musicraker_ from the company." She frowned.

"JBB family?"

Beiste nodded. "Yeah. The officers, the board members, the shareholders. Sylvester Publishing has still some people from the days my father's company was under private management, you know, they used to work for JBB or some of them are their family members." Her frown between her eyebrows got deeper. "There was a discrepancy between JBB and Sylvester Publishing at the merger agreement."

Interesting. Finn had enough time today. He leaned forwards and asked. "Could you please tell me more details?"

* * *

><p>"So, you're saying that Sue doesn't like that JBB family still works, fills seats, or has the company's shareholders?" Tina was the first one to open its mouth. She and her friendscolleagues working at Sylvester Publishing met up at William Schuester's apartment in Upper West Side.

"Why am I here?" Santana bluntly said, folding her arm across her chest.

"That's my line." Petulantly murmured Puck, who had been dragged into the meeting by Mercedes.

"Why not?" Brittany, who was sitting next to the Latina, clapped her hands happily. "Sounds interesting!"

"We need your help, San." Rachel pleaded. "You have very special psychic Mexican third eye. And you," She turned her head to face her cousin, who was sandwiched between Rachel and Mercedes, "have it your way if you don't want to cooperate with us." She pushed the Mohawk _hard_.

"No, Rachel, he has to stay." Mercedes demanded. "He can be useful since Becky still has a thing for him." She threw a sharp glare at Puck.

"Sorry, I made you guys wait." Schuester's wife, Emma, chimed in as she walked into the living room, managing to steer a dinner wagon which was full of snacks and sweets and the right amount of glasses of iced tea, before beginning carefully putting one by one on the coffee table, putting her hand on her swollen stomach.

"I'll help." Marley jumped out of the couch to help the very pregnant woman. She was getting annoyed with her new boss, Mr. Tanaka, which only made her more eagerly help her former boss.

"Anyway," Will started, "Beiste's theory is comprehensible." He settled back against his recliner, his arms on the back of his head. "Some of the management team were always against my decisions without hearing me out, but some related to JBB were very understanding people and always careful listeners." He sighed, rather telling himself more than informing to his (former) workers. "I know that Sue's attempted to get rid of the JBB people from the top management, but failed so far, thanks to some of the shareholders and the board members, who I believe are related to JBB."

"If Beiste's right, JBB people of the top management are likely to be in danger to lose their job too." Kitty pointed out and crossed her arms in front of her chest with a frown on her face, leaning back into the sofa.

"If so, what's going to happen?" Jake cautiously asked as he picked a bag of snacks from the coffee table.

"Large round of layoffs." Artie said, nodding at himself plausibly.

"But appointing only yes-men to the important posts doesn't work for any companies." Tina frowned before whispering in her boyfriend's ear. "Do you think your boss is one of them?"

"Cooter?" Mike arched his eyebrow. "I don't know, but I've heard he'd hooked up with Sue once or twice." He revealed matter-of-factly. The senior writer of _Athlester_'s revelation got every one of the people in the living room nauseous. "What? Nobody knew?"

"I can't help but wonder how you guy's company works to begin with." Santana snorted. "CEO is creepy pedophilia Sandy Ryerson in pink, the president is nothing but bossy shorty Dakota Stanley. Hello?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Ryder held his hand straight up in the air before remarking as he saw Schuester nodding for him to encourage. "That's why they have a lot of able workers." He reasoned, which surprised everyone, who were now looking at Finn's assistant with a stunning face. He made a face, looking over them. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, you just spotted on." Blaine reassured, patting Ryder on the back.

Kurt cleared his throat to get the meeting to be back on track. "What's her real intention, anyway?"

"That's why I asked you guys to be here today." Finn started explaining. "We're going to gather the necessary information to worm it out. I can't say what's gonna happen, I mean," he glanced at Rachel out of the corner of his eye, "I don't know whether or not we could stop the magazine from the discontinuance, o-or Mr. Schuester and Rachel could regain their positions, even if we would figure it out, but, uh–"

"At least we could let the people who might lose their jobs know in advance, yeah." Mercedes finished his sentence.

Matt nodded. "Yeah, we should be prepared for the worst possible scenario, you know, _Athlester_ and _Survêtement_ could possibly be discontinued too."

"Alright, what is my role played by?" Lauren demanded, her arms across her chest.

Out of her tote bag, Rachel pulled the to-do-list copies. "I typed the names and phone numbers of the shareholders and the board members who could probably cooperate with us." She handed them out to each of the people. "And in order to share the information easily–"

"Or not to talk about this at the office," Mercedes added.

Rachel affirmatively nodded at the senior editor of _The Musicraker_, "I created the mailing list, which is typed on the bottom."

"Beiste said that we could use the upstairs of her studio when the meeting would be necessary." Finn informed.

"Awwww, cloak-and-daggery!" Brittany announced in a chirpy voice, clapping her hands.

"Or you can use my apartment anytime you want." Will suggested.

"What about Jesse?" Tina asked, shifting her eyes from the copy in her hands to her tiny brunette of a best friend. "Finding him is not on this to-do-list."

"We should focus more on Sue right now." Rachel let out a sigh. "But I'm working on it."

"Okaaay," Mercedes chimed in, clapping her hands to get the others' attention, "let's get to work."

* * *

><p>Since they formed DIA (Dumbo Intelligent Agency), Rachel started getting slightly energetic, but still no sparks in her eyes. Something was still bugging her. He thought. Was that about Jesse's missing? Of course it was. But there was something else.<p>

Too absorbed in thought, Finn almost failed to catch the name reaching his ears, which his assistant had just mentioned. "What did you say?" Snapping out, he asked.

"I think I saw Jesse." Ryder repeated.

"What? Where?" Finn flew out from the media booth—they were currently in Hyde Park in London in order to take photographs of the music event for another magazine and its web site—to look around the crowd restlessly with the strained eyes. He, however, couldn't confirm any creatures in a form of the douche within his sight. It was impossible for anybody to find someone in this massive crowd. Frustrated, he ran a hand through his messy hair and turned around to face his assistant. "What did he look like? What did he wear? Where and when exactly did you see the Jackass?" He rattled off questions at Ryder.

"Um," The assistant shifted on his pipe chair, scratching his head, "he was wearing a black T-shirt and black jeans, like, as his usual self." He took a thoughtful expression on his face for a second. He folded his arms in front of his chest, one hand rubbing his jaw line. "But I think his hair seemed shorter than the last time I'd seen him." He tilted his head to one side. "His hair was… blow-back style? Is that a correct word? I don't know much about fashion and hair style, so…"

Finn nodded before encouraging Ryder to go on.

"And he just walked across from there," Ryder pointed to the area nearby the food booth, "to there," he pointed to the opposite direction, "before you did ask me 'what did you say?'" He saw Finn slumping his shoulders down. "I should've chased after him." He said apologetically, looking down at the ground.

"It's fine." Finn let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "We can't ditch this assign." He assured, though he was sure that he would have ditched the work and hounded Jesse to the end of the world if he were the one to see the douche bag. So he blamed himself—he should've listened to Ryder carefully. "We've got to know that he's in London at least." He pulled out his cell phone out of his back pocket before texting Rachel about what Ryder had seen.

"Alright," Finn called out to his assistant as he picked up one of his camera bags and hung it on his shoulder, "it's time to work."

For now.

* * *

><p>"I understood the situation you've been in. So I'll let you have your own time to think about it." The African American woman wearing Turban round her head smoothly stood up from the chair and held her hand for Rachel to shake. "But I'm looking forward a positive reply from you at the end of this month, Ms. Berry."<p>

"Please call me Rachel." The tiny brunette also got out of her chair and took the woman's hand. "I had the very privilege to meet you, Madam Tibideaux." She saw the woman in a silk cape nodding with a stern face before elegantly walking her way over out of a French restaurant close to MoMA.

After having seen the woman off from inside of the restaurant, Rachel finally allowed her own body to be freed from the muscle strain. She let out a deep sigh—she didn't know how long she had been holding her breath by nervousness. Because, she was _the_ Madam Tibideaux! _The_ Madam Tibideaux, who had been rumored that she would be given a title of Dame in the near future, had been sitting at the same table with her!

Carmen Tibideaux was the publisher of Tibideaux & Heughan, which was well known as the best art/photography publishing company in the world.

If the phone call hadn't been from T&M (not the person herself, of course), Rachel wouldn't have gone out of her way to be here from her childhood house in New Jersey. This was T&M we were talking about. As she had said to Madam Tibideaux at parting, just sitting at the same table with her was the privilege.

Rachel had never _ever_ imagined that she would have a possible opportunity to work at T&H, let alone they would get interested in _her_ (somehow, Madam Tibideaux knew who Rachel Berry was. The publisher of T&H even had mentioned the special featured articles of _New Directions_).

Sure, she had known about the publishing company and had some copies of their publications—one of them was a photography collection of Condé Nast Publications, like _Vogue_ and _GQ_, which she betted that Kurt and Tina definitely would be surprised, and they probably would mock, saying it was impossible for a person who owned such a book to have some (poor) taste in fashion. Meanwhile, she really, and honestly, had not the slightest thought that she was going to apply a job at T&M.

For one, the company was based in London.

For two, working at _The Musicraker_ was her dream, not at T&M.

She knew that she had an appreciation for photography. Yet, not a book editor, but a magazine editor—an editor of _The Musicraker_, specifically—was her destiny, at least she had thought, when she took a copy of an old issues of _The Musicraker_ at a local music shop in New Jersey in her hands two days after she had been forced to give up her previous dream, a singer.

The copy of the issue was full of the things that she had loved. Great articles, talented musicians (neglected ones included), artistically beautiful photographs, splendid editorial design, even letters of the texts themselves—typography was an art to her eyes.

Magazine, or music for that matter, was never called the fine arts, and usually people dumped it into a garbage can once they finished reading. But for Rachel, to her eyes, every tiny detail in a magazine formed into one great piece of art work. You could own that piece of art full of information with only 15 dollars.

And musicians, photographers, writers, art directors, editorial designers, or even editors, those who were involved in a magazine, would spread their wings to fly high around the world in the future.

_The Musicraker_ was one of the few legit music magazines to make that kind of things happen. She used to dream about that she would be the one featured in the magazine. But after the laryngitis surgery, her dream changed—she wanted to be the one to make things happen for them.

But now, _The Musicraker_ was in danger of folding, let alone she had become history at Sylvester Publishing—even if she and her friends could bring the supposedly discontinuation of the magazine to a halt, there would be no way she was going to get re-hired as long as Sue was the chairman.

What mattered to her right now was, what was she supposed to do? More precisely, what would she want to do?

She would be lying if she had said that she had never thought of producing/editing a photography book. But she had always thought that that would be happening at _The Musicraker_ if she would be allowed.

Did she want to work at T&M? A book editor and a magazine editor were more different than might first be surmised. And if she said yes to Madam Tibideaux, she had to move out of the City, which meant that she had to be far away from the people who she loved. Could she really do that?

Besides, she had a lot of things to take care of right now.

She was standing at the crossroad.

Rachel took a deep breath again. She looked around to find a waiter in order for another glass of red wine. While waiting for her order to be delivered, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse to ask Mercedes to meet up as she noticed that Finn had texted her.

**Ryder happened to see Jesse at Hyde Park. Was just a blink, didn't make sure the person really was him. I'll keep you posted. Oh hey, you have a copy of Anton Corbijn's WERK but don't A SOMEBODY, and looking for the copy, right? Found one yesterday. Wait for me to bring it back to the City in 10 days. ;) – Finn**

Widened her eyes, Rachel gasped as she got to know that Jesse could be in London or somewhere in the UK.

Jesse had an older sister, Lily, who was a journalist and had worked in London for a while before (but Rachel didn't know where she was working right now, since she had met her only once, but at least she knew Jesse's sister was not in London now). And she now remembered that Jesse once had mentioned that his uncle lived somewhere close to London. Why didn't she try to reach for his sister sooner? Why didn't she realize that he could be in the UK to lay low sooner?

Rachel pulled out her worn-out journal out of her purse and frantically flipped through it, remembering there was her cell phone number somewhere in it.

Four minutes and another glass of wine later, Rachel finally found it. She carefully pressed the number on the screen before waiting for Lily to pick up her phone (and internally praying the number hadn't been changed).

"_Hello?"_

"Lily? Lily St. James?"

"_Yes, who is it?"_

"Rachel, Rachel Berry."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: 'T&H' exists in the real world, but it is short for 'Thames & Hudson,' which is also well known as one of the best publishers of illustrated books on art, architecture, design and photography. It's a London based independent/family-typed publisher, and has two distinct headquarters in New York and Paris. T&H in this story (Tibideaux & Heughan) is also a London based independent publisher, but doesn't have any distinct headquarter.**

**Please review :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! I know many of you guys were disappointed with the last chapter, which was lack of Finchel interaction. But I assure that in this chapter that is not going to happen. I hope you'll like it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14 – August 2012<strong>

When Rachel was looking at the departures board at the London Paddington train station, she felt light taps on her shoulder from behind. A little surprised, she actually did jump a bit at the place before turning around to see a person who had tapped her. She let out a loud sigh as she found an unexpected and expected in equal measure tall guy standing with a grin. "I told you not to come. Don't you have somewhere or someone to take photographs today?"

"Nope." Finn simply answered, pushing his hands into his pockets, his feet shifting back and forth.

A lopsided grin on his face got Rachel annoyed and melted at the same time, and the latter made her feel embarrassed. So she refused to blush with biting her bottom lip, chose to narrow her eyes at him instead, before turning on her heel to make her way over towards the ticket office without a word to him.

Finn followed her in silence and settled himself standing in line behind her.

Finally, Rachel escaped from the awkward silence between the two of them in line to step forwards one of the ticket counters. She pulled her wallet from her bag as asked. "A standard class ticket to Bristol Temple Meads at–"

"Two tickets at 11:18." From behind, Finn cut her off, amending.

Rachel turned her head to face Finn as she was about to open her mouth to speak, but Finn beat her to it. "_Two_ tickets." Punctuating, he repeated with a straight face, nodding firmly at a station staff sitting across the glass window, since he saw the woman sporting an annoying look on her face.

Rachel was taken aback for a second. _When did he get so persistent?_ She thought. She, however, pursed her lips and turned to the station staff.

"One-way?" The woman in uniform bluntly asked behind the glass window before declaring the fares as she saw the tiny brunette nodding. "￡63."

A small argument between the height mismatched couple for a few minutes having made the ticket lady start getting irritated, Finn complied Rachel's demanding to share the expenses. Meanwhile, he snatched two tickets from the counter before Rachel could take them and grabbed her hand in his, leading her to the Platform eight.

"Finn!" Rachel hissed, trying to shrug his hand off of hers (but failed because of his tight grip). "What are you thinking?"

Ignoring her question, Finn decided to purchase some food and drinks as he approached a bakery nearby the platform. "Did you eat? I'm super hungry." He contemplated as he bent down a little to take a look into the glass glazed showcase which was displaying tons of pastries and sandwiches, before ending up getting a vegetarian baguette sandwich for Rachel, a Genoese Focaccia and a Kaiser burger for him, four muffins for two of them (mostly for him), and two smoothies of Rachel's favorite.

Finn pretended not noticing Rachel's frown plastered on her face and internally grinned triumphantly at himself, a paper bag in one hand, her tiny hand in the other, as he strode along the Platform eight. Okay, he understood the situation—this was not a date or something, especially they might be going to confront St. Jackass. But he couldn't help but feel upbeat because he hadn't had time alone with her since the Jackass incident.

Once they settled themselves in their seats in the train, Finn pulled the food out of the paper bag and handed the sandwich and a plastic cup of smoothie out to Rachel.

"Okay, you can come with me, but one condition." Rachel rolled her eyes (not only at him but herself also, since it was so too late for her to say that) as she took the food and drink from him before placed them on the tray table. "Do _not_ throw your fists in any parts of Jesse if we can see him." She demanded as she placed her fogle on her laps.

Finn glanced at Rachel out of the corner of his eye as he took a big bite out of his burger before saying in a muffled voice. "I'm definitely," he munched, "not gonna make promises I can't keep." Then he swallowed thickly and smirked at her.

"Finn!" Rachel chided as she smacked his arm.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black." Finn pretended wincing at the impact on his arm and rubbed the spot with his other hand.

"Finn! I'm serious!" Rachel hissed. "You can not punch him! Promise me not to do such a thing, or I'm going to have a stopover before the Bristol station since you don't know where exactly his uncle lives."

"Okay, I promise." Signing, Finn complied, fully prepared he would definitely do _something_ to St. Jackass if he tried to pass the buck, or had no sense of remorse, anyway.

While they had their food (except for the muffins) and drinks, Finn gave some once-overs to Rachel, who seemed to get caught up in her thoughts. So, he kept munching his food and waited for her to speak to him.

Rachel, who had felt that Finn repeatedly glances at her, finally opened her mouth as she finished eating. "Um, about Corbijn–," she started as she pulled the wet wipes out of her bucket bag before offering some of them to Finn, "how much did it come? I believe that a copy of 'A SOMEBODY' fetches inflated prices. Let me pay you back."

"That's my gift to you, Rachel." Finn refused to inform pf the price as he took the wet wipes from her.

"For what?" Rachel frowned.

"Uh, your birthday?" Finn should've thought before talking, since he knew that her birthday was not August.

"Finn, my birthday is December." Rachel informed as she neatly folded the used wet wipes and put it away on the tray table.

"So? I missed the last one, eight months late gift from me." Finn recovered as he balled up the wet wipes before tossing it away into the empty paper bag. "Besides, that was not that expensive. The guy selling used books doesn't know 'A SOMEBODY' is out of print I guess." He shrugged before taking out the aforementioned photography book from his messenger bag and handing it out to her.

"Finn–," Rachel let out a sigh, "you don't have to do this, but thank you." She leaned her head against the head rest, her face towards Finn.

"That would be one more thing for you to lug over though. I should've waited to give it to you until I get back to the City. But, you know…" Finn rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, right." Rachel giggled as she stuffed the book into her bag before leaning her head against the seat and turning her head to Finn again.

That was what he had wanted to see and hear to die for. Finn smiled. "I like the way you sound when you laugh, Rach." He blurted out as he mimicked her demeanor, leaning against his head rest and turning his head towards her.

Rachel felt her face blushed, chewing the inside of her cheeks , but her eyes never away from his. "I like the way you call me Rach." Then she lifted her hand to reach for his cheek. "You have…" She wiped the dried stain from his burger around the corner of his mouth with her thumb.

Finn covered her hand with his before he slowly brought her thumb into his mouth. He gently sucked her thumb, locking his eyes onto hers. Then he placed a chaste kiss on her palm as he stared at her intently.

Rachel shuddered at the feelings on her finger and her palm as her heart started pounding loudly.

They both lost in each other for a moment.

But the sudden breaking betrayed the tension between them. The train screeched to a stop before Finn could make a next move.

Rachel abruptly pulled her hand from his and turned her head away from him before peering through the window. And she cleared her throat. "Uh, thank you again, Finn, for the book." She whispered between her shaky breaths.

Finn rubbed his face, internally groaning, leaning back against the seat. He cursed under his breath before managing to reply. "My pleasure."

* * *

><p>"This is bad, really bad." Mercedes shook her head before she let out a deep sigh. She had gotten some informative story from one of the board members named April Rhodes, who was one of the famous individual investors in the City, also from the same college as Schuester went to.<p>

Artie, Kitty and Blaine, who had been summoned by the senior editor of _The Musicraker_ to the second floor of Beiste's work studio, exchanged looks.

Mercedes began telling them in a low voice what she had gotten from Ms. Rhodes.

What April had said to Mercedes was that something strange would possibly be coming because some of the top management team and the board members seemed to plan some big project behind the curtain.

So, April had confronted Sugar's father, Al Motta, who was also one of the board of directors but was not a member of any faction at Sylvester Publishing, asserting her rights, as one of the board members, to know what was going on, which resulted in knowing that Sue might think about changes in the structure of industries or types of business, with the use of _Athlester_ as a name of a brand—fitness business, supplement sales, or something like that.

For making that happen, Sue now was searching for possible companies which may purchase the company's assets. That was, however, the best scenario as far as April was concerned—if the asset purchase was true, some of the workers didn't have to be worried about losing their jobs. The worst was, if Sue decided that _Survêtement_ might be discontinued too, let alone _The Musicraker_, most of the workers would get turned adrift.

"What about _Athlester_?" Blaine asked. "Do you think the digital magazine could remain?"

"April thinks that 'mass media' is not going to be eliminated from the registration, but the digital magazine, as a product, might be." Mercedes replied. "But she also said that it's highly possible our magazines, _The Musicraker_ included, would be transferred, since those magazines are boosting profits and the discontinuance rather penalizes the company."

"But why?" Artie frowned. "According to what Beiste said, the company boosted profits last year, right?"

"Do you guys remember that _Athelester Protein Shake_ became a runaway bestseller last year? Which Sue somehow suddenly came up with?" Mercedes looked over her friends before continuing as she saw all of them nodding. "Sue might have tasted success at it and begun considering changes in the structure of industries or types of business as a great opportunity to get rid of JBB people completely from the company."

"So, Beiste's assumption was not an assumption." Kitty said in a low voice. "Which means, the asset purchase would come to an agreement by the end of the year."

"There are JBB people among not only the top management team and the board of directors, but the shareholders, right?" Blaine rubbed his law line thoughtfully. "Without their affirmative votes, it couldn't happen. It shouldn't happen!" He cried.

"I don't know," Mercedes let out a sigh, "some of them might double-cross, judging by what April told me. Besides, we don't know what percentage of shareholding that JBB people have is." She massaged her temple with a forefinger. "This is totally out of our hand." She threw her hands up in the air.

"Where is Rachel, by the way? Does she know about this?" Artie asked.

"She had a flight to London yesterday." Mercedes informed. "Jesse might be in London or somewhere near to it."

"Will she be fine by herself?" Blaine wore a worried look on his face.

"Oh, she'll be fine. Finn happens to be in London too, and he said he would take care of her." Mercedes assured. "Alright, let's get back to the office."

* * *

><p>Rachel took a deep breath before stepping forwards to knock on the door. She slightly turned her head to see the tall photographer standing behind her. She saw him give her reassuring nods with a small smile. She nodded back at him and softly knocked on the George St. James' household.<p>

"Hi, I'm Rachel Berry. We spoke on the phone the day before yesterday." Rachel nervously introduced herself as a gray haired man with glasses opened his door, sporting a stern look on his face. "And this," she stepped aside to let Finn move forwards, "is Finn Hudson. We've worked with Jesse."

The old guy nodded. "George St. James." He shook his hand with Rachel and Finn, respectively. "Come in." He led them to the living room.

George settled in the armchair across the sofa where Rachel and Finn perched themselves on. He slowly took his glasses off of his face and massaged his eyes tiredly before speaking. "I asked him yesterday, about what you'd told me on the phone." He let out a deep breath and shook his head. "I apologize for what my nephew's done to you and your company." He slowly pulled out his check book from his pocket as he asked. "How much does he owe you?" He leaned forwards to be prepared for writing down the amount of Rachel's savings on a sheet of his checkbook.

"Um," Rachel shifted on the sofa, "where is Jesse? Is he going to come home soon?" She asked in answer.

George leaned back against the armchair, leaving the checkbook opened on the coffee table. "He's probably in a pub." He glanced at his watch on his wrist in disgust.

"So, he's still drinking–" Rachel bit her tongue and cast down her eyes on her laps, idly playing with the hem of her skirt.

George rubbed his face with a hand before nodding. "He can't write without alcohol."

"I'm afraid to say this, but, uh, he's being sued for his plagiarism and embezzlement. Sylvester Publishing possibly would sue him also." Rachel informed before declaring. "And I'm duty-bound to let them know where he is."

George pursed his lips and nodded. "I'll try to get him to be back to New York or Los Angeles." He stood up from the armchair as he asked. "Are you two waiting here until he's back? Or–"

Before George could finish, Jesse walked into the living room in a slightly drunken manner. "Oh, hi, Rachel!"

Finn felt his head boiling with an anger. _Oh, hi, Rachel? What the fuck? Hasn't he realized what he did to her?_

Rachel felt Finn almost explode, so she balled the hem of his T-shirt in her fist to not let him attack Jesse. "Hello, Jesse." She greeted back at the fugitive with a straight face.

George yanked Jesse on his shoulder and forced his nephew to sit on the armchair. "You should talk, and apologize." With that, he left the three of them in the living room.

"Jesse, why did you do that?" Rachel opened her mouth after an eternal silence. "Why didn't you tell me you were in trouble?"

"I didn't expect to do so well." Jesse sneered at himself.

"What did you say? What the fuck did you mean by that?" Finn spat, about to jump out of the sofa.

Rachel immediately yanked Finn down "Finn!" She admonished. "Let me handle this." She whispered.

"How could you be so calm, Rach? This dickhead ruined your dream!" Finn gritted his teeth, his hands clenched into fists.

Jesse chuckled as he saw the lovebirds' exchange. "I never imagined that you got blinded this much, Rachel. I thought you were better and smarter, but I think I was wrong." He slurred.

"Do you realize you're being sued by an English writer and the producer that you absconded with his money from?" Ignoring Jesse's remark, Rachel bluntly asked, her hand still grabbing the hem of Finn's T-shirt. "And Sue is prepared for filing a suit against you also."

"I don't think so." Jesse snorted. "Anyone won't ever file an action against me."

"What makes you so sure?" Rachel raised her eyebrow.

"Have you guys checked the articles that you thought I plagiarized?" Jesse saw Rachel's and Finn's frowns get deeper. "I'm disappointed that you underrated my writings, Rachel. It hurts." He put his hands on his heart, pouting. Then he got out of the armchair and walked over towards the shelf where many bottles of liquor was put on. "Sue made it up to put the responsibility on you and Schuester." He opened one of the bottles and poured it into a glass before gulping it down. He turned around to see Rachel and Finn, chuckling.

To say annoying was an understatement. Finn shrugged Rachel's hand off of him and walked over towards Jesse before grabbing the douche by the scruff of the neck. "What's so funny, jackass?"

Rachel jumped out of the sofa and hurriedly approached Finn before pulling his shirt from behind. "Finn, drop your hand! You promised me not to throw your fists!"

"Rachel, you always surprise me. I never thought the day you would fall for someone uncivilized like him was coming." Jesse managed to brush Finn's hand away from his collar, but failed to see what was coming the next. Jesse stumbled backwards a little from the impact that Rachel's tiny hand just had given to him. He widened his eyes, putting his hand on his cheek.

"You abused my trust, and now you insult him? How dare you!" Rachel cried out. "He's a great guy. You could never be like him, no matter how hard you try!"

Too dumbfounded with Rachel's outburst, Finn's feet cemented to the floor for a moment. But he snapped out as he saw tears threaten to fall on Rachel's cheeks. He pulled her into his chest, wrapping her in his arms, soothing her small back up and down to calm her.

Still putting his hand on his cheeks, Jesse sighed. "I'm sorry, Rachel."

When the three of them settled themselves back on the sofa and armchair, whether or not Jesse felt the pricks of conscience, he started telling Rachel and Finn the whole story.

That was, Sue blackmailed Jesse to cooperate with her to fire Rachel and Schuester when she found that he had a drinking problem and went off with the money of that TV producers in LA had pooled. The reason he stole Rachel's savings from her bank account was to repay the money that Sue had shouldered for the out-of-court settlement with the producers.

"You should've told me before deciding to cooperate with Sue, you know." Rachel said sadly.

"You don't get it." Jesse added. "You've never suffered a setback. Do you know how hard it is you have to accept the fact that your talent is running out? How hard it is you don't know what to do next?" He buried his face in his hands.

Rachel bit her bottom lip, her eyes on her laps. Yes, she got it. Because she had suffered a setback once. And now she was filled with self-doubt and didn't know what to do next. Nevertheless, you shouldn't justify your action to cut the ground from other people's feet.

"You're just making an excuse. Don't justify what you've done to her." Finn bluntly said. "And don't think she's never suffered a setback. I can't believe you dated her for two years. You know nothing about her." He internally added that he couldn't believe Rachel had dated him. What did she see in him anyway? She deserved better than _that_.

Jesse lifted his head up to see the photographer and narrowed his eyes. "You're saying you know her better than I do?"

"As far as I'm concerned, Yeah, I think I do." Finn threw a glare back at the Jackass.

"Enough." Rachel broke the glaring battle between the two men. "Jesse, if you're really sorry about the whole thing, you have to help us. Can you do that?"

Jesse let out a sigh and nodded. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I'll pay back your money, now can't do, but I promise I will."

"I hold you to your word." Rachel managed to give Jesse a small smile.

* * *

><p>Rachel didn't say a word while in the train back to London. She didn't speak anything while Finn walked her to the hotel. Finn attempted to talk to her, but he hesitated. He closed her mouth as soon as he opened it. She just held his hand in a tight grip. Her face kept frowning as she was lost in thoughts.<p>

When they got to the door of her hotel room, Rachel finally turned to face Finn and opened her mouth. "Thank you for tagging along with me today." She said in a low voice.

"Aren't you hungry?" It was almost 8 pm. "Why don't we go out to grab a bite? Or, if you don't feel going out, I'll get some for you and of course for myself." As if on cue, Finn's stomach grumbled. He felt his face turn crimson.

Rachel giggled. "It would be nice if you don't mind getting some. I don't feel going out tonight."

"I'll be right back."

Finn got back to her hotel room in a record time, holding the paper containers filled with Chinese food in a plastic bag. Once he entered the room, he put the containers on the coffee table and handed a pair of chopsticks out to Rachel.

They ate the dinner, talking about photography and music, avoiding the subject of Jesse, _The Musicraker_, or Sylvester Publishing for that matter (well, Rachel was the one to avoid, Finn just sensed it and went along with it).

After having cleared the containers away from the coffee table, Rachel deposited herself on the bed, and blurted out. "Jesse was right."

"What?" Finn snapped his head up as he was about to dump the empty containers and the used chopsticks into a garbage can.

"Jesse was right." Rachel repeated in a low voice. "I'm not good enough. To be an editor."

"What are you talking about?" Finn made his way over to Rachel and perched himself on the spot next to her. "You're a great editor, I know you know that."

"Then why didn't I notice what Jesse had been involved in?" Rachel looked at Finn, her eyes watering. "I felt something was wrong with him. But I let him off the hook." Her eyes cast down and tears started falling on her cheeks.

"Rachel, look at me." Finn cupped her face in his hands and wiped her tears with his thumb. "You were just being nice. That's it. Some people take advantage of your being nice, unfortunately."

Rachel threw her arms at Finn and clung to his neck tightly, letting tears falling down. "But I don't know what to do right now." She confessed.

Finn combed her hair gently and placed his lips on her head a few times. "You have to believe that you're a really good editor, and a hard worker. You inspire so many people. You inspire me, Rach. You're kinda my moose."

Rachel giggled between tears despite herself as she pulled her head back away from Finn's neck to look at him. "It's, it's 'muse,' Finn." She gave a small smile to him.

"I know, just wanted to see you smile." Finn pushed her band aside with a smile. "You can do anything you want, Rach." He kept combing her hair with his fingers. "You know what? Wanna know how I went through with a tough time?" He saw Rachel nodding before continuing. "I could go through with it because of you."

Then Finn hoisted her up and deposited her on his lap. He caressed her cheek with a hand, the other wrapping around her waist.

"Now I'm gonna tell my story."

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! Finally, you guys are going to know what happened to Finn, but I'm a bit nervous about whether or not you'll be disappointed with it. I hope you will enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15 – January 2011<strong>

_The first time in a long time, Finn felt genuinely happy. And nervous at the same time. Because, he hadn't felt like this for a long time. Or you could tell that he had never felt like this before._

_The second Rachel left his apartment as he made a promise that he would pick her up at her apartment at 7 pm, he started batting around as to how to impress her on their first date; could he find a flower shop to buy her a pretty bouquet on New Year's Day? What kind of flowers should he get? Roses? Every girl loved roses, right? No, Rachel was not every girl. She was special. So he would get special ones. What was Rachel's favorite flower? What were the flowers in her apartment? Dark pink, or purple colored, lots of petals… what did they call them? Maybe he should call Kurt to figure it out. Nope, anyone wouldn't want to get his lecture as to how to choose the right flowers for girls for _hours_._

_As he emerged out of the bathroom, freshened up from a shower, clad only in a towel around his waist, he noticed that he had missed a few calls. He glanced at the screen of the phone which he had left on the kitchen counter to find who had called him. He frowned as he scrolled to see the name—Quinn. She kept calling for weeks, until a few days ago (so he thought she had given up). Which totally brought his uplifting mood down. Not that he bothered to answer the phone or call her back anyway. So, he decided to call his mother instead._

_Talking with his mother made him feel much better. His mother sounded happy when he told her about more details of his new job at _The Musicraker_. Humming Journey's '_Don't Stop Believing_,' he walked into his bedroom, and started rummaging through his closet and drawers to find clothes for a date. Didn't want too much dressed up, but not so casual. What did Kurt always say? Right, always dress sharp on a first date. But there was no way in hell to wear a tie. Because he hated tie. Tie only made him more nervous, not to mention that he didn't know how to tie. He didn't want to screw up anything on a first date with Rachel._

_About ten minutes' thinking back and forth later, he picked up a light blue dress shirt, a V-necked gray sweater in a sport jacket which Kurt had approved saying 'look sexy in it,' and dark blue jeans. Satisfied, he walked into the kitchen to calm his nerve with a cup of coffee before he could leave._

_Then his phone buzzed (again)._

_He groaned as he saw the name on the screen. Why did she keep calling him? They were over. For a long time ago. Even though it was only about two months ago that he actually had broken things off with her._

_Finn let out a loud sigh and grabbed his cell phone from the kitchen counter._

"Why didn't you answer the phone? Have you listened to the voicemails that I left?"

_As soon as he answered the phone, a slightly panicking female voice came from the other end of the line._

"_We're over, Q. I don't think I'm obligated to answer the phone." Finn retorted petulantly. "And no, I haven't listened to your voicemails." He rubbed his face in frustration._

"Look, we don't have time to talk over that."

"_What do you want then?" Finn asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance towards his ex-girlfriend._

"Biff got arrested a couple of days ago."

"_Huh?"_

"I too was questioned about alleged the embezzlement yesterday. I don't know why this is happening, but they seem to think you are involved in too, and–"

"_Hold on, hold on." Finn squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying his hardest to take in every word Quinn had said, before managing to let out a word. "I'm not following."_

"They think that you're involved in too, since somehow, but apparently there were your signatures on the registration certificate of the shell corporation, which they–"

"_They who? What did you mean by the shell corporation?" Finn ran a hand through his hair. What the hell was she talking about? He didn't understand one bit of the words coming from the other end of the line._

"The FBI, Finn. The shell corporation is to embezzle money from Murphy's Insurance. Biff and his boss were arrested, but I believe that Biff's being falsely accused of it!"

_Finn heard Quinn's voice crack._

"What am I supposed to do? I-I… I'm pregnant, Finn, with his child."

_He knew she was crying right now. But Finn had no ability to speak. Because, too out of the blue to catch her meaning of every word yet._

"A-and, there's one more thing that you should know–"

_Finn felt in his ear Quinn sound hesitated. "Um, what's that?" He finally managed to speak._

"_She's pregnant too, Finn."_

_Finn frowned. "She? Who?" His heart started pounding. He was almost suffocated._

"Vanessa. Who you slept with."

_It seemed to take an eternity (actually, ten seconds) for Finn to sink in, who Quinn had mentioned in a slightly accusing tone it was. "V-Vanessa?" He stuttered before asking stupidly. "H-how did you know that?"_

"She told me, Finn. She's been sick for weeks, which kind of is the same symptoms as I have. She insisted that she was not going to tell you, but I think you have the right to know since you're the father."

_Finn's mind went completely blank._

"Finn, I've heard that the FBI's obtained an arrest warrant on you, and–"

_He had no ability to listen to her anymore. He just felt his body losing its strength enough to hold his phone. Vanessa was pregnant with his child? And the FBI was going to arrest him too? How could it possibly be happening?_

"_Finn? Finn? Are you still there?"_

_Finn snapped out by Quinn's shout between sniffling through the phone. He attempted to lift his arm up to his ear, but a loud knock on his front door prevented it. He managed to make his way over to the door. Only to find about a half dozen of the people in a suit standing there. With the warrant on him in one of the guys' hand._

* * *

><p><em>The interrogation was a blur.<em>

_Only one thing that he felt he got off easy was that the agents in charge of the case had not been so harsh to him. Rather nice to him. Still not quite understanding, but he politely answered to their questions—the basic information; his full name, his current address, phone number, job, where he was born, his relationships with Biff and Quinn (and a bit of Vanessa too), and his family. Then they continued asking when and where exactly he signed the documents of the shell corporation, showing the copies to him._

_They looked like his signature._

_But he didn't remember that he signed them._

_Because he was sure that he was not the one to have signed them._

_Finn didn't have any answer._

"_You look like having a lot of expensive equipment in your apartment. How can you afford them?" One of the agent calmly but meaningfully asked._

_Finn snapped up his head to stare at the guy in a black suit for a second before shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't have a car, or anything else expensive. Those cameras and lenses are for my job. Most of my payment goes to them."_

_The agent arched his eyebrow, but didn't say anything._

_Then they allowed him to make one phone call to his loved one while he waited for a public defender._

_It was a tough call._

_To choose._

_Only one call._

_He didn't glance at the time. Because he knew the time he would've showed up at Rachel's apartment had already passed. Although he knew he had to call her, to apologize to her, for that he couldn't make it, he didn't know what to say to her. How could he tell her the whole story? The whole story that he didn't even know himself yet. And… Oh God, Vanessa was pregnant. With his child._

_Besides, he didn't know how long he was going to stay here, even though how many times he had told the FBI guys that he didn't know anything about the shell company or the embezzlement._

_Finn took a deep breath in front of the phone before pressing the number which he had called so many times and just had called hours before too. "Hey, Mom."_

"Finn? Are you okay? You sound… tired."

_Oh, no. He didn't want to worry her. He couldn't tell her either. Having heard his mother's warm voice, Finn gripped the receiver of the phone tightly, trying his hardest not to let tears fall. "No, I'm fine." He squeezed his eyes shut and slowly exhaled a shaky breath, not for his mom to notice anything. "I," he cleared his throat, "I just wanted to let you know that I've got an unexpected work, so I'm going to go outside of the City for a few days, or probably a week, to take photographs." He said in one breath, praying that she didn't notice that he was now in a vulnerable state._

"Oh, that's great, Finny! I'm so so proud of you."

_Now warm water had started blocking his vision. He let the tears fall, but trying his hardest not to sniffle or anything. "Thanks, Mom. Um, I'll call you when I'm back, okay?" He silently wiped his tears and snots with a sleeve of his jacket._

"Please do. Looking forward hearing the story of your photo shooting."

_Having hung up the phone, one of the agents led him to a detention center. The guy, who might have eavesdropped the conversation between Finn and his mother, gave a sympathetic smile at him and patted him on the shoulder._

_A few hours later, a public defender arrived at the detention room. The middle-aged attorney named Ms. Adler, suggested that he accept a plea deal if he wanted to be free sooner since The FBI considered that he was not the principal offender._

"_I'm not gonna agree to plea-bargain!" Snapped out Finn, who had been burying his head in his hands. "I didn't do anything! I don't even know what they're talking about, for fuck's sake! Accepting a plea deal means me pleading guilty! I got Vanessa pregnant, yeah, if you say that's guilty, then yeah, I'm convicted. But I swear, I don't know anything about the shell company and the embezzlement!"_

_The big woman didn't seem to flinch one bit at Finn's outburst. She just walked over to him and sat on the bench next to him before letting out a sigh. "But the documents have your fingerprints."_

_Finn ran a hand through his hair in frustration, but his head was clearing more than a few hours ago. "I didn't sign them. They should conduct a handwriting analysis. Someone must have traced my signature." He demanded._

_Ms. Adler stood up from the bench. "I'll ask them to do it." With that, she left him in the detention room alone._

* * *

><p><em>The signature was completely his. There was the match between the handwriting on the document of the shell company and one of the documents which the agent had confiscated from his apartment when they had knocked on his door with the arrest warrant.<em>

_Yes, it was homologous._

_But_ too_ homologous._

_Which made the FBI start to think that Finn might not be involved in any crime, what Finn had appealed to them was right. Although there were his fingerprints everywhere on the documents (he didn't know how was possible either), they had found that there were also a few vague glove prints in further forensics. And simultaneously with that those details of the forensics revealed, Biff, who was being interrogated in Cincinnati office, finally had confirmed that Finn had nothing to do with the crime._

_It took exactly three days for him to be free from being a caged bird._

_Relieved, to be honest. He, however, couldn't take it lying down. Sure, the FBI apologized him for the mistaken arrest with sincerity. Yet, he wanted to scream and harbor resentment towards everything and nothing, or anyone. He would have finally started living his life he had been dreaming of. In the City. As a professional photographer. With Rachel. Why did he have to be trapped in such a thing? Who the fuck did put him in this situation? Biff? But what for? He had never done anything to make an enemy out of Biff. Biff was the one who had done something to incur his wrath rather than him, wasn't he?_

_And what had he done to deserve this anyway?_

_Because he knocked Vanessa up?_

_Was that what the universe was telling him?_

_Finn frantically ran a hand through his hair, which had already been messier than usual while waiting that an officer would bring his stuff (his watch, wallet, apartment key, and cell phone) in a plastic bag and the other confiscated possessions (his cameras included) in a file box from the pound. His clothes, which had been supposed to impress the girl of his dream, were completely wrinkled._

_After a long walk to his apartment, he let out a deep frustrated sigh (again) as he stepped into it. It was not like the FBI guys had totally messed up the entire apartment when their domiciliary search, but apparently they hadn't learned in their childhood how to put everything away. Finn carefully placed the file box by the door and started to tidy up the apartment despite his exhaustion._

_Having finished, he plumped down on the couch and lay down on the back, his arm over his face. Then he finally pulled out his cell phone from one of the pockets of his sport jacket to check missed calls._

_Rachel had called him, Of course. On the day they were supposed to go out on a date, and the next day too._

_He squeezed his eyes shut, battling against the feelings to call her and tell her everything about what had happened to him for these three days. But he hadn't figured everything out yet. Especially about a baby. He knew, the more days he didn't call her passes, the more difficult it got for him to actually do. But he didn't know how to tell her. Rachel didn't deserve this._

_Or he might not have deserved her to begin with? Maybe she would be better off without knowing this, and without him?_

_Trying his hardest to suppress his urge to hear her beautiful voice, he pressed the number of his ex-girlfriend instead, to get Vanessa's phone number._

* * *

><p><em>The next day, to figure everything out, Finn flew to Columbus.<em>

_Once he settled himself on the couch in Vanessa's household, he asked in a straightforward manner. "Quinn told me that you're pregnant. Is," he swallowed thickly, "it true that is mine?"_

_Vanessa, who looked like skinnier and paler than before (if he remembered correctly), cast down her eyes at her hands on her laps and just nodded._

"_How far along are you?" Finn continued asking._

"_About ten weeks now." Vanessa confessed in a low voice._

"_Why didn't you tell me?" He didn't mean to be harsh, but couldn't help but sound a little bit annoyed._

"_You said that was a mistake." Vanessa finally looked up at Finn. Her eyes started watering. "It looked like you didn't ever want to see me again."_

_Finn sighed, running a hand through his hair. Sure, at that time, he had not thought that he'd wanted to see her again. He was not going to lie. Nevertheless, he had the right to know her pregnancy. "Yeah, but I'm a half responsibility. You should've told me as soon as you found it out."_

"_I don't have your number." Vanessa pointed out in a sharp voice._

"_Right." His loud sigh met an eternal silence. Finn cleared his throat after a while. "Uh, are you," he hesitated, "are you going–"_

"–_to keep this baby, yeah." Vanessa interrupted before Finn could finish. "I'm still unemployed, but I'm not gonna give him up." She said firmly. "I'm going to find a job to provide him."_

_Finn rubbed his face, thinking back and forth. He didn't think that he ever would come to have romantic feelings for Vanessa, but he would be lying if he said that he didn't feel anything towards a tiny creature growing inside her stomach, even though he was still freaking out internally. Yet, He had grown up without a father figure—his father died in action when he was a baby. He knew the feelings of growing up without a father, without a man to look up to. He had Burt now, but that was totally a different story._

"_I'll support your decision." Finn finally opened his mouth. "And I'll help. Financially too. I'll do the best I can, for the baby."_

"_But you're living in New York, right? How can you handle this?" Vanessa nervously wrung her hands on her laps, examining Finn's facial expression._

"_Um," Finn rubbed his forehead, telling himself this was a right thing to do, before deciding with a sigh, "I'm going to ask my old boss to get me hired."_

_He saw Vanessa nodding in relieved._

* * *

><p><em>Fortunately, his old boss generously guaranteed hiring him again, since most of his workers had made a lot of careless mistakes, adding to say that he was the best thing that had ever happened to the photo studio.<em>

_Okay, now the job in Columbus and the baby thing were settled. Sort of. But there was one more thing remaining that he had to figure out. So, he called his ex-girlfriend._

_About twenty minutes later, Quinn walked into a café and joined sitting at the table where Finn had been waiting. "I'm sorry I'm late."_

"_It's alright." Finn shifted on the chair. "Uh, what happened to Biff afterwards?" He looked at her through his eyelashes, sipping his coffee._

_Quinn took a deep breath. "I think he'll be released in a couple of days." She answered as she ordered her tea._

"_So, he was mistakenly arrested too?" Finn cautiously asked._

_Quinn shook her head with a sad expression on her face. "His father is going to bail him out. But Biff will be prosecuted, along with his boss."_

"_Oh." Was all Finn could say. He looked down at the table, idly playing with the hem of his cup before finally opening his mouth again. "Do you have any idea why my signature was on the documents? Who set me up?"_

"_I don't believe Biff did such a thing." Quinn said after the waiter left. She blew her tea and carefully sipped it before continuing. "When Biff is discharged, I'm going to ask."_

_Finn just nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, are you alright? I mean, you and your baby…"_

_Quinn massaged her temple with a forefinger. "I don't want to think about it right now. But yeah, I'm okay. Thank you for asking." She gave him a tight smile. "And are you? I mean, did you talk to Vanessa?"_

"_Yeah," Finn cast down at his hands gripping his cup, "Decided that I'll move back to Columbus, you know, for the baby." He let out a sigh._

_Quinn raised her eyebrow. "Really?"_

"_Yeah." Finn nodded. "Do I have any other choice? I don't think so." He shook his head in defeat. "Uh, speaking of Vanessa, you and her are still friends, right? Best friends?"_

"_No longer meeting up so often after graduation, but yeah." Quinn frowned. "Why?"_

"_Nothing, just–" Finn decided not to tell what Vanessa had called Quinn a bitch when they had hooked up. "I didn't mean to sleep with one of your friends. I'm sorry, Q. I was completely drunk that night and–"_

"_Finn," Quinn put her hand on his, trying to stop him to ramble, "it's fine. I'm the one to apologize." She assured._

_Finn nodded, but kept staring at his cup._

* * *

><p><em>He felt a tight knot in his chest when thinking about Rachel. He never did (and would) get her out of his head. But he never had courage to call her back, despite the fact that he had no idea how many times he almost pressed her number—he ended up just staring at her name on the screen of his phone. She already hated him, he was telling himself. He just hoped that her beautiful smile would never leave from her face (even though he was sure that he had made her upset, <em>really_ upset). Someday, he could have a chance to ask for her forgiveness. He wouldn't care if she didn't forgive him. He deserved it._

_Now every day was dull. After moving back to Columbus. Waking up, going to work, checking up on Vanessa, going home, and going to bed. Same shit, different day. Today was not different._

"_Mr. Hudson."_

_Finn groaned as he heard the voice which he was sure was Howard Bomboo's. Preparing for cleaning up his coworker's (another) mess, he turned around to face Howard, who was shifting his feet timidly. "What?"_

"_The hospital called for you. Your girl's been taken to the hospital."_

"_She's not–, never mind." Finn shook his head as he took his apron off of him before getting out of the back room, shouting to Howard over his shoulder. "Tell the boss that I'll take a half day off!" With that, he rushed into the street._

_Once he arrived at the hospital, a nurse at the reception informed him of Vanessa being in an operating room, but didn't tell the details because he was not her family even though he was the baby's father. So, he decided to sit on a bench while waiting._

_Vanessa was twelve weeks pregnant, which meant that apparently she was not in labor. Then what had happened to her? More importantly (to be honest), to his baby?_

_He restlessly pounded his foot on the floor, his hand running through his hair._

* * *

><p><em>Vanessa had had a miscarriage. Which caused her to get depressed. And Finn also got depressed, feeling sorry for her. And thinking about the baby overwhelmed him.<em>

_When he made his way over towards the room where Vanessa was lying on the bed with a heavy gait, he heard some people yelling loudly coming from her room._

"_You did blow the whistle, didn't you?"_

"_Don't touch me! I'm so done with you. Go fuck yourself!"_

_Dumbfounded, Finn widened his eyes as he rushed into the room. "W-what are you doing here?"_

_A guy in an expensive suit whirled around to see Finn before frowning. "What are _you_ doing here?"_

_Finn also frowned. "Uh, visiting Vanessa?"_

_Biff turned his face to the woman in bed. "Are you guys," he looked at Finn again, "dating?"_

"_No!" Finn immediately denied. "She's, she was pregnant," he shifted nervously in the doorway, "with my child."_

"_Huh?" Biff faced Vanessa. "You said that was mine." He said to her in an accusing tone. "Did you lie to me? If so, how could I believe that you've said before? Those were a lie too?"_

_Vanessa was on the verge of tears, biting her bottom lip, averting her eyes away from Biff, her arm crossing in front of her chest. She felt Biff's hand on her shoulder. "I said, don't touch me!" She shrugged it off._

_Finn, who had been trying to figure out what they were talking about, stepped inside the room. "Stop, stop!" He frantically waved his arms in the air. "What are you guys talking about?"_

_Then Finn remembered. Vanessa told him that Quinn had stolen her man, twice._

"_You meant that was Biff?" It was like Finn told himself more than asked. "You set me up, didn't you?" Finn said quietly, feeling some kind of wrath growing in his stomach. "And the baby was not mine." He managed to deliver words from his mouth, breathing heavily._

"_I-I didn't mean to get you involved in at first, b-but," Vanessa sniffled._

"_Why? Why did you do to me?" Finn attempted to suppress his anger. "Why?" He repeated, burying his face in his hands, before looking up at Vanessa. "I did nothing!" He raised his voice._

"_Exactly." Vanessa started in a low voice, but suddenly snapped out loud. "Yeah, you did nothing! Or you rather encouraged this bastard to fool around with girls! Did you remember when I was still in his bed in the dorm, you said to him, 'ooh, who's the victim this time?' with laughter, with laughter!" She repeated her last words. "On top of that, you just handed your girlfriend a free pass to cheat with this shit! Twice!"_

"_Vanessa–"_

_Biff tried to cut in, but Vanessa yelled at him. "Shut up, shut up! Y-you, forced me to have an abortion, no, not once, twice! But never have kept your words. Ever."_

_The three of them turned their heads towards the doorway as they heard a loud gasp._

"_W-what did you just say?" Quinn stammered, but immediately pulled herself together. "Biff, Vanessa, please explain from the beginning."_

* * *

><p><em>After having left the hospital room with kicking a chair—hard, Finn almost punched a wall or something to find an outlet for all his anger. But the image, that Rachel would stop him from doing it, narrowly held him back.<em>

_Vanessa had been a kind of one of Biff's mistresses, maybe the longest. Over the course of submissively being his mistress, as she had mentioned, she had been forced to have abortions two times, believing his words, like he would make it up to her in the future. Biff, however, never kept his words._

_When Vanessa came to know Biff and his boss had pocketed the company's money, she started planning to serve him out. At that time, she didn't mean to get Finn involved in. However, once she did learn that Biff started sleeping with Quinn again, she directed her ire towards Quinn too. Having happened to meet Finn at the bar was, like, a bonus for her, to mess things up—Vanessa thought that ruining the lives of the guys Quinn had loved and been loved seemed a good idea to hurt the blonde._

_Vanessa and Finn hadn't slept together that night. Instead, while Finn completely passed out on her bed, she cooked up the documents which she had temporarily carried out from Biff's apartment, and traced Finn's signature by a receipt which Finn kept in his wallet. Then she peeled his clothes off of him, to look like as if they had slept together. You could tell that she had completely lost her mind at this point._

_Being pregnant with Biff's child (again) was unexpected. But once she got to know about Quinn's pregnancy, not with Finn's, but with Biff's, and that Biff didn't force the blonde to have an abortion, unlike he had done her, to say she got jealous was an understatement. She attempted to get the blonde jealous when she said she was pregnant with Finn's child, but Quinn Fabray was still Quinn Fabray—the blonde bit the bullet. Vanessa needed a new plan. She needed to take it up a notch (especially after Finn had been discharged)._

_What she hadn't expected to be coming was a miscarriage._

_Lying on the back on the couch in his apartment, staring blankly at the ceiling, Finn remembered Vanessa's screeching voice._

"_What did I do to deserve this?"_

_A tiny part of him couldn't help but feel sorry for her, even though he believed that she shouldn't have gotten him involved in. Biff was the one to be blamed._

_As for his ex-girlfriend, who seemed to have no idea that Vanessa had had feelings for Biff, or hooked up with Biff occasionally (or, maybe she had been suspicious that Biff'd had some girls in his arms other than her), Finn didn't know what to say, or what to think, honestly. But she was a strong woman, literally (she repeatedly hit Biff hard with her purse and pinched his nose, saying 'I'm done with you!'), so maybe she would be fine without Biff, he hoped, even if it meant that her baby had to grow up without a father—thinking about it made Finn feel a tight knot in his chest though._

_And now his mind turned to himself._

_While he thought that he did nothing wrong, he couldn't shake Vanessa's outburst off of his mind. Somehow, he felt ashamed of himself. And now he was stuck in Columbus. Again._

_Deep down, he wanted to tell Rachel everything. He, however, admitted that he felt nothing mattered to him anymore, to be honest._

_Too exhausted mentally and emotionally, he just wanted to crawl into the underneath of his bed, forever._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Poor Finn. :( So, this chapter was the flashback part 1. Finn will sort things out in the next chapter.**

**Please review :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! This chapter also tells Finn's past; his wandering journey in Europe (and there will be small Rachel's talks—a flashback within the flashback). I hope you guys will enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16 – From February 2011 to January 2012<strong>

_They said that Karma was a bitch._

_According to what he had read in the newspaper, Biff probably would be sentenced a maximum of 15 years in prison (his boss should definitely longer) at the court's ruling in three to four months. Quinn decided to raise her baby by herself, though she would certainly receive child support from Biff's parents._

_As for Vanessa, well, sadly enough, she ended up in a psychiatric ward._

_What was his Karma, then?_

_He didn't remember that he said that kind of things knowing Vanessa had been in the same room. He didn't know that Quinn cheated on him with Biff when they were in college, though he was fully aware that she did right before they broke up for the second time._

_He would be told that he tended to avoid a problem or go with the flow, or was apt to place confidence in any person readily. But were those a bad thing?_

_Finn let out a long deep sigh on his bed, staring at the ceiling blankly before turned his body on the side to look at the object on the night table. His late grandfather's Hasselblad was staring right back at him. His hand unconsciously reached for the camera, but he immediately pulled his hand from it, realizing that he had stopped taking photographs since he moved back to Ohio._

_He had sold almost of his cameras and lenses for Vanessa's child support and starting over (again) in Columbus. But that was not the point. The problem was that he didn't get motivated._

_He was disappointed with himself._

_So, he ran._

_Ran away from Columbus, Ohio. Away from the country. Away from everything. Only with his duffel bag._

_Just in case, with his Leica M4 and Elmarit 28mm F2.8, too._

* * *

><p><em>He didn't know why he thought going to Ireland. Maybe, his mother had once told him that his family had its roots there.<em>

_He, however, hadn't been able to bring himself to go around the city since he arrived at Dublin Airport. He had pathetically locked himself up in a tiny dark hotel room for almost a week. The only thing he had done so far was looking down the street from the Oriel window of the hotel room, dozens of beer bottles never leaving beside him._

_Lying down on the bed with closed eyes, he could still see his mother's uneasiness on her face despite he didn't say a word about what had happened to him—he just declared that he was going to travel in Europe alone, making an excuse, like, for photographing, trying to not make her worry more. Then he promised to call her at times, leaving his grandfather's keepsake in his mother's hands._

_His mind drifted to Rachel and _The Musicraker_. Not only had Mr. Schuester given him a job, but he and Rachel had believed in him. Yet, he left them without explaining anything._

_He disappointed them._

_And he hurt Rachel so bad._

_She couldn't be more saddened, if she saw him right now._

_He started reeling the memory in his mind of which he first had been at her apartment, having the Xmas cake which she had baked, which was an awesome raspberry and chocolate one._

"I'm a Jewish, so I usually don't celebrate Xmas, but I like baking, so…" She emerged out of her kitchen, holding the tray with her hands. She served a large piece of the cake on his plate as she placed his plate in front of him before sitting at the table.

Finn gave a goofy grin at her before he took one big bite. "Holy sh–," he swallowed, "this is _amazing_, Rachel." He couldn't pause in his attack to the cake. "You would be a great pastry chef," he munched his last one bite, "I mean, if you wanted."

"I'll think about it." Rachel giggled.

After the leftover cake and coffee, they stayed sitting at the table with other cups of coffee. Then Rachel started.

"I'm _so_ glad that you've kept taking photographs, Finn," Rachel bashfully said, "because not only can I see your works, but also so many people in the world can from now on." A big bright smile spread on her face. "I know freelancing is tough, but I want you to keep photographing, no matter what."

_Her talk to him like that was, like, as if peeling one by one the outer layers of his uncertainty, and planting seeds of his hopes which would spread their roots firmly in the near future._

_Finn slowly got out of the bed and pulled his Leica and some rolls of film out of his worn-out duffel bag before stepping out of the hotel room and into the street covered a cold rainy smell._

* * *

><p><em>Somehow, he ended up frequent pubs, instead of drinking by himself in the hotel room. In Waterford, Dublin, Holyhead, London, Liverpool, Leeds, Manchester, Glasgow, Aberdeen.<em>

_After walking around those towns, he just entered a local pub, sat on a chair at the bar counter, and listened to some stories which guys who happened to sit next to him told. Most of them grumbled about their good old wives. Some bragged about their exploits. Some told their life story._

_They didn't seem to care that he didn't give them any responses (he just nodded, or occasionally, 'yeah,' or 'that's bad,' or 'wow,' or 'hmm-hmm,' or something as his responses). They just talked. As if talking to the wall._

_And some of them said 'I'll buy you a drink in return,' after having finished their story. He politely turned them down and asked whether or not he might take a picture of them instead. Most of them affirmatively nodded without reluctance, patting him on the back or shoulder._

_That completely became his daily routine._

_He didn't pay much attention at first, as to what they really were talking about. He had not talked to anyone for a while, so just listening to somebody's talk (and giving some responses) was kind of his way to interact with the world at least. Or, you could say that it was the way to fill the hole in his chest, the way to avoid the feelings of loneliness and emptiness._

_One day, when he looked into the viewfinder, he realized those who spoke to him were not so different from him. They too were avoiding the feeling of loneliness or tiredness for some reasons, even if story to be told was a brag._

_The more he released his shutter, the more he realized that _they_ did sorry for him more than he should for them (not that he felt sorry for them though). Or, sometimes, he saw himself in them, and they seemed to see themselves in him, too._

_He felt something small click inside his stomach._

* * *

><p><em>Over the course of his drifting from one to another small town in Germany, the Netherlands, and Belgium, the scenery got changed from gray to multi colors to green, and his daily routine became some kind of a lifework—he utterly got devoted to it, telling himself that he would show these photographs to Rachel someday.<em>

_Meanwhile, the films to be developed began piling up, his money for transportation, accommodation, and food (mostly went to the beer) running out, though he became some master of beer._

_Now he was… where was he? Uh, right, Namur. When standing at the Brussel Central Station, some stranger had suggested that he go to Namur, seeing his camera in his hands, saying that he could take a beautiful picture there, although he attempted to explain that he was not a landscape photographer._

_So here he was. Wandering in one of the traffic-free streets, to look for some (decent) DPE store and a cheap inn._

"_American?"_

_Finn whirled around to face a middle-aged man who was wearing a familiar T-shirt, which was totally the same one as Finn was, the Journey T-shirt he had _bought from _the Revelation Tour in 2008. They shared chuckles at the coincidence._

"_Did you go see them in the United States?" Finn curiously asked._

"_Oh, no, no. I saw them in Paris." The guy bald on top informed._

_After they had a small talk about the Journy's 2008 tour, the guy named Victor Verhoeven asked simple questions; where he traveled around in Belgium (and other countries), why he did that, what he came to Namur for. Finn simply and honestly answered to them._

"_Oh, in that case, you can come with me. I own a small pub, and an inn accommodation upstairs. If you help to tend at the pub, I'll let you stay and pay a little. What do you say? You can kill the two birds with one stone, right? I know you're a good guy. There's no bad person in Journey lovers."_

_While Victor chuckled at his own words, Finn was at a loss for words for a moment, surprised at his generosity._

"_I, um, I–" Finn scratched his head sheepishly, wondering if he should take his offer or not. "I don't speak French, nor German, Dutch." He hesitated._

_Victor dismissed him off with a waving hand. "Don't mind. Besides, we have a job that you don't have to talk to customers." He nodded in the direction where his pub was, encouraging Finn to take the offer._

_A small smile crept on Finn's lips._

"_I'll take you up on that. Thank you."_

* * *

><p><em>The pub, Les Furieux, had a very cozy and homey atmosphere, floating Classic rock play from a jukebox. It was packed almost every night since Jupiler Pro League. Busy, but enjoyable for Finn to help Victor, whose warmth really touched him.<em>

_He learned a little bit about French language and things Belgian; he had dropped his jaw the first time he had witnessed Lukas, Victor's seventeen years old son, had a beer more often than not (most pubs had a drinking age limit of 16 years old!). And of course, Belgian beers (Victor took him to the breweries, Abbaye de Floreffe and Brasserie Du Bocq)._

_The time passed quickly more than Finn thought it would. It had been almost four months since he arrived at Namur. Winter has been just around the corner._

"_Victor…" Finn called out, after he had wiped the counter with a cloth._

_Stopping himself from placing the chairs on the tables, Victor shot up his head to see the tall young photographer's face before nodding knowingly. "Finally came."_

"_Yeah." Finn got out from behind the counter before approaching the pub owner. "Thank you, for everything." He clasped hands with Victor before hugging him tightly. "I'll never forget."_

"_Don't say that, Finn." Victor hugged Finn back before pulling himself away from the taller guy, still his hand holding Finn's tightly. "It's not like you'll never see me again. We'll welcome you anytime, you know."_

_Next morning, Finn said his last goodbye to Victor and his family as he gave him a framed black and white picture, in which the regulars and visitors, also Victor and his family, all looked up at his camera, lifted their beer glasses up high in the air in return._

"_I hope you'll bring her next time."_

"_I hope so too."_

* * *

><p><em>His last destination was in Prague. Why? Because the conversation with Rachel at the exhibit of Josef Koudelka at the end of the last year was engraved on his heart. He remembered that Rachel had animatedly talked about Koudelka.<em>

_Also Prague was one of the most beautiful cities in the world. He wanted to look around the city; you could see more of its golden age than of its scar by the invasion now on the way to the hotel from the airport (he did remember attending a class in college where a professor zealously had expounded on the Warsaw Pact Invasion of Czechoslovakia)._

_And of course, Czech beers and pubs._

"_Dobrý den, mohu vám nějak pomoci?"_

_As Finn pushed the door of a local bookstore, a chirpy voice came from the back of it._

"_Um," Finn took a pause, not knowing how to show his intention wanting a copy of Koudelka's photography book in Czech. He hurriedly pulled out a small English-Czech phrase book, which he had just bought at the airport, out of his back pocket, before frantically flipping through it to find an appropriate phrase to use. "Hked__á__m…"_

"_I speak English." The shop girl declared with small giggles. "How can I help for you, sir?"_

_Sir? Did he look like an old dude?_

_Finn glanced at his own reflection in the shop window out of the corner of his eye, before rubbing his unshaven scruff with a hand. He cleared his throat and faced the shop girl with a forced smile. "Yes, uh, do you have any copy of Josef Koudelka's photography book? '_Gypsies_'?"_

"_Sure, we have Czech edition, French, and English one. I bet you would like to get an English one." The girl decided, before heading for a shelf on the back without waiting for him to respond._

_Having gotten a copy of 'Gypsies,' Finn returned to the hotel. Lying on the bed, he slowly opened the photography book, remembering that he had seen some footages from _The Great Tradition of Photojournalism_ playing at the Koudelka's exhibition back in the country. That was very interesting images._

On the way to the exhibit, Rachel continued talking about Koudelka, looping her arm around his.

"He is a really, really brilliant photographer, Finn. Some criticize badly, but you know what I love the most? His approach to his own work. He said, 'I don't care what people think. I refuse to become a slave to their ideas.'"

"Your photographing style is different from his, you know, he's a kind of photo-documentary photographer, but I think you two have a lot in common. I mean, in life and philosophy..., he lives simple, thinks simple, work simple, just takes photographs all the time, in sunshine or in rain."

"You know what one of his girlfriends, the mother of his son, said to him about his works? She said, 'you go through life and get all this positive energy, and all the sadness, you just throw it behind you and it drops into the bag you carry on your back. Then when you photograph, it all comes out.' I feel the same kind of energy through your photographs."

_Now her words really sank in. Finn started to replay every moment and every conversation that he had with Rachel._

"I really love your photographs, Finn. When you are photographing, you somehow open people's heart. You are really great at taking an up-close and personal look at them. I think that's because of your personality."

_That was the next morning Finn and Rachel had spent a night together. It made his heart swell whenever he remembered it._

_He wanted to see Rachel again. He had to see her again. He didn't know whether she would forgive him or not, but he needed to see her._

_He was ready to go home._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I don't think that any exhibitions of Koudelka were staged somewhere in the United States at the end of 2010 (I believe that it might have been in 2008 since the year was the 40th anniversary of the Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia and the 70th anniversary of his birth). When Josef Koudelka took photographs of 'Gypsies,' he used Exakta (single-lens reflex camera) which is the important plop in the movie 'Rear Window' directed by Sir Alfred Hitchcock, by the way.**

**Please review :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17 – August 2012<strong>

Lying on the right side, Rachel was staring at his adorable dorky face right in front of her face, recalling the last night.

Finn had repeatedly said to her, _'I'm sorry, Rachel, I'm so sorry'_. Honestly, she had forgiven him a long time ago, because, whatever the reason would be, she had been never able to believe that he had played on her feelings, judging by what he had been doing for her since working together this year. He was a really caring person.

And she was the one to feel sorry for him, the situation that he had been compelled to be in. To say what she had heard from Finn was aghast was an understatement of the century. That was beyond what she could ever imagine. That was absolutely, terribly, awfully wrong. Her heart went out to Finn, who had had to experience and go through with it.

A tiny part of her felt sorry for Vanessa, too. Of course, Rachel felt strong indignation with her since the woman was the one who had pressed the button that had led Finn to fall into the black hole. Yet, she couldn't help but wonder why she had to love the wrong guy who couldn't love her back but kept her on a leash. Had she tried to stand up for herself at some point? Maybe she had, but apparently failed.

Sometimes, thought-feeling-action triangle didn't work well. Especially when it came to love and relationships.

The last night was the longest night that she had ever crossed.

After Finn had finished his story, except for the details of his journey in Europe (they had been too exhausted from the emotional drain to continue), they just held each other until falling asleep, as if one's presence was another's comforter. Rachel's sleep was like a log for the first time in a long time, even though it was only a few hours.

A light snore coming from his shapely nose, his eyelid twitching at times, his freckles over his nose blended into the sunburn, and drooling from his slightly parted lips began forming a tiny stain on the pillow—Rachel couldn't help, she cupped her mouth to suppress fits of giggles.

Finn twitched his eyelids one last time before slowly opening one eye, only to find the girl of his dream try to suppress her giggles but failed miserably.

"What's so funny?" Yet halfway through awake, Finn asked in a sleepy voice as he tried to get her hand away from her mouth.

"Nothing." Rachel still giggled as she complied tearing her hand away.

Finn arched his eyebrow. "You're still laughing."

"I'm not, just," Rachel gestured to the corner of his lips, "you're drooling."

"Oh." Finn hastily wiped his mouth with a hand, right before smugly grinning at Rachel to cover his embarrassment. "I know you drool."

"I do not!" Rachel hissed scandalized, but her hand flew up to the corner of her lips to make sure that she _was not_ drooling.

Finn chuckled. "You're not now, but I know you do sometimes, Rach."

"I do not!" Rachel repeated huffing as she attempted to slap his arm.

Finn fended off as he grabbed her hand before she could do so. "You keep telling yourself." Smirking, he led her hand to wrap his neck before leaning closer to her face and giving her a chaste kiss on her lips. "So," he started after the kiss and good mornings, "I can kiss you whenever and wherever I want to from now on?" He asked, his lopsided grin formed around his lips.

"That's debatable." Rachel replied nonchalantly as she rolled over to lay down on the back.

"What?" Finn frowned.

Rachel turned her head to look at him with eyes full of mischief. "Only if you take it back."

Aware all too well of what she was talking about, Finn decided to play along with her. "Take what back?"

"That I drool."

"That I won't." Finn rolled over on the back too, his arms behind his head. "Which means I'm not allowed to kiss you. But I'm fine with it." He shrugged.

Rachel gasped at his sentiment. Still lying on the back, she folded her arms in front of her chest, slightly threshing her legs, annoyed a bit at him turning the table.

Before she could come up with any idea to come back, Finn, who glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and chuckled at her childish demeanor, climbed on top of her, untying her arms before pinning them on the top of her head. He said nothing, but looking into her eyes.

Rachel pouted, but neither saying, nor moving, she just looked back into his eye, waiting for him to make a move.

Finn slowly leaned his face down to hers before he captured her mouth. He traced her lower lip with his tongue, silently begging for her to take it into her mouth, as he brushed the bare skin of her shoulder with his fingers and slid the strap of her sun dress (they had slept wearing for the previous day) aside.

Rachel let out a content sigh into his mouth. She lifted her hands to wrap around his neck as she parted her lips for his tongue. She unconsciously played with the nape of his neck.

Finn's tongue shifted to her neck, and then to the back of her ear before he nibbled her earlobe. When he reached for the zipper on her left side with one hand, the other caressing her inner thigh, the ringtone of his cell phone interrupted them.

Finn groaned as he dropped his head into Rachel's neck before climbing off of her to answer the phone which had been neglected on the night table. "I know, I know, I'm on the way back." He said before his assistant could greet.

Rachel zipped her up and sat up on the bed while Finn talking with a person who she assumed was Ryder on the other end of the line.

"I have to go." Finn let out a sigh with disappointment, rubbing the back of his neck, after having hung up the phone. "You sure you have to be back to the City today? You can stay in my hotel room." He suggested expectantly.

Rachel shook her head, "I'd love to, but," she let out a sigh, "I have to go, too, considering what Mercedes texted us yesterday." She climbed off of the bed before she smoothed her dress and combed her hair with her hand.

Finn approached the bed and sat on it nearby the spot she was standing. Then he pulled her waist with his arms to set her between his legs. "I have something to show you."

"Now?" Rachel asked, putting her hands on his shoulder, looking down at him.

"No. I'm go–" Finn began, rubbing her arms up and down.

"Oh, okay." Rachel looked a slightly disappointed. But soon her eyes lit up. "What is it? Tell me what you're gonna show me." She shook him by the shoulders.

Finn chuckled. "You'll see when I go back to New York." Then his face changed into a straight. "Do you still feel," he cleared his throat, "going on a date with me?" He saw her bite her lower lip with hesitation. "Don't worry, that's not gonna happen this time." He assured.

Rachel gave him a tight smile. "I know."

"So you let me take you out? Next week when I'm back to the City?" Finn asked again.

Rachel nodded. "Okay. But if you–"

"Nope, not gonna happen, ever. I promise." Finn cut her off as he cradled her cheeks with his hands before pulling her face to his to give her a chaste kiss. "Okay?"

Rachel slightly nodded on his lips.

When Finn was about to deepen the kiss, his cell phone interrupted them _again_. He growled loudly.

Giggling, Rachel pulled herself away from Finn. "You should go." She yanked his arms for him to stand.

"Please call or text me before you leave and when you arrive at JFK, okay?" Finn turned around in the doorway. He gave her one last kiss before heading back to his hotel. "Bye, Rach. See you in New York."

"See you, Finn."

* * *

><p>"So, you're saying that the company assets better be sold?" Mercedes asked with a frown.<p>

In the upstairs of Beiste's work studio, Mercedes, Artie, Kitty Blaine and Jake were carefully listening to Beiste, April and Will.

The curly haired woman had explained so far that there would be no way for them to drag Sue down from the chairman of the company unless Jesse had a certain physical evidence that Sue had trapped Will and Rachel.

"It's difficult for us to turn this game around under the circumstances." Beiste looked around the people in the room.

"I know you guys all have some kind of attachment to working for Sylvester Publishing," April, who was pacing around, followed. "But think about it," the tiny blonde woman stopped pacing before turning to see the people in the room, "we can't completely eliminate the threats posed by her, as long as Sue hangs on to the power at the company."

Schuester let out a sigh. "You know, even if we could stop her from selling the assets this time, she would rake over old ashes again."

"But," Beiste interrupted, "there's one thing that we can control."

"What is it?" Kitty asked expectantly.

"Sorry, buddy, we're not allowed to tell the employees this information yet." Beiste said apologetically.

"If that means you would find a company before Sue could do so," Blaine began, "you know, which could purchase the assets–"

"You're not supposed to know that kind of things." Beiste cut him off, but a hint of a smile on her lips.

"But what are we supposed to do now?" Artie asked with a distressed. "Just wait for some company to save our ass?"

"Yeah, there's no guarantee that a new owner would re-hire all of us and assure the same spots that we are in now." Jake murmured.

"I'm afraid to say no." April responded. "But I promise that we're gonna avoid adverse developments for you guys as much as possible."

* * *

><p>"Have you told him?" Mercedes asked as she received her glass of red wine from a bartender.<p>

"Not yet." Rachel sighed as she put her head down on the wooden counter. "Besides, I'm still undecided." She tilted her head up slightly before sipping her water.

"But that's a great opportunity, you know, once in a lifetime kind of opportunity." Mercedes pointed out. "You should tell him."

"I know, Mer, I know." Rachel let out a sigh again, her chin on her hands, her elbows on the counter.

"Holy fuck!"

Rachel, who were in a lemon yellow open back sun dress, thin spaghetti straps crossing only around the neck and the lower back, groaned at a smug voice which had come from behind. "Noah, I'm not in the mood."

Puck raised his eyebrow.

"It's really hot out there! That's all there is to it! No more no less!" Rachel huffed. Why did she have to volunteer to give her moron of a cousin the information that she would go on a date with Finn later?

She was nervous. She trusted Finn, but what if he changed his mind? She didn't think that the FBI thing would happen or some girl would trap him, but she couldn't help.

"You didn't get any action in London, did you? Damn, the dude's got no balls." The Mohawk jumped over the counter before standing in front of Rachel through it. "You're wearing that to seduce him, aren't you?"

While Mercedes shook her head, Rachel rolled her eyes. "You're unbelievable. Do you realize that you've turned 30 years old a week before?"

"Speaking of which, you didn't give me a present." Pouting, Puck held his hand out to her. "Where's my present?" He demanded.

"You're such juvenile." Rachel murmured as she pulled a small box from her purse. "Here." She violently thrust it into Puck's hand.

"That's my girl." Satisfied, Puck smirked at her before hastily ripping the ribbon and the wrapping paper off of the box. "Nice!" He cried out, after he had examined and found it was a guitar pick with a (real) signature of Kieth Richards. "Thanks, bro." With that, he walked back into the back room.

"I'm not a bro!" Rachel huffed before turning her head to see her best friend. "Do you still feel going out with _that_?" She deadpanned.

"I don't know, Rachel, but I have to have a second thought about it." Mercedes laughed. "Anyway, I–"

"Hello, Cedes, Hobbit."

Rachel and Mercedes whirled around on the stool, only to find that the Latina stood behind them.

"When are you gonna stop calling me names?" Annoyed, Rachel made a face asking.

"Never." Smirking, Santana slid herself onto a stool next to Rachel. "Nice outfit, by the way." She gestured to Rachel's sun dress, still her smirk plastered on her face, all too well knowing the brunette would go out on a date with Frankenteen. "Listen, you'll like what I've got."

Rachel arched her eyebrow. "What's it?"

"This is just between us, okay?" Santana premised in a low voice, leaning forward. "Do you guys know The Holiday Corporation?" She saw the two women nodding. "Holly Holiday's thinking purchasing the assets of Sylvester Publishing."

Rachel and Mercedes exchanged a glance.

"Yup, that's right." Santana answered an unspoken question. "I can't say that _The Musicraker_ and _Survêtement_ would continue their circulation, you know, since they already publish a fashion magazine, but Bryan Ryan is one of the top management of The Holiday Cor–," she stopped as she saw Rachel and Mercedes frowning, "he's April Rhodes' long time partner, so, you know what I mean." She winked at them.

"Are you sure?" Mercedes cautiously asked. "Who did you get the information from?"

"I have my ways. Besides, I'm a successful business woman, of course I'm good at reading the latest market trends." Santana answered nonchalantly. "And as for the latter question, you don't have to know." She held her forefinger up in the air to get a bartender's attention before tilting her head towards the two. "You're gonna treat me to a drink, right?"

* * *

><p>As he had promised, Finn showed up outside <em>Figgins' bar<em> at 7 pm. The second his large frame came into her sight, her nervousness and anxiety were all gone.

Over the course of the dinner at a cozy Greek restaurant, Finn told his journey in Europe, especially about the people he had met in pubs, their talks, and four months with Victor at _Les Furieux_.

"Did that guy really kill a man?" Rachel gasped dramatically as she finished her dessert. "Weren't you sacred sitting next to him?" She asked as she elegantly wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"He didn't look like a murderer." Finn shrugged before beckoned the waiter for their bill. "Everybody was tipsy, so, I don't know whether or not they told the truth."

After the waiter had returned his credit card, Finn squeezed her hand on the table. "Ready to go?"

"Only if you tell me where we're going next and what you're gonna show me."

"Nope." Finn shook his head.

"Then I'm not going." Rachel pulled her hand away from his before folding her arms across her chest.

"Alright, I'll tell you where we're going." Finn compromised.

Rachel lightened up as she untied her arms, before frantically nodding for him to go on.

Finn chuckled. "Snixx building."

Rachel frowned. "Santana's office?" She tilted her head to one side before something came to her mind. "Oh, it has a view?" She clapped her hands happily.

"You'll see when we get there." Finn winked at her as he stood up from the chair. He approached her and offered his arm for her to loop. "Now, c'mon, Rach, let's go."

* * *

><p>Before they entered the dark, empty office floor of Snixx, Finn turned to face Rachel. "You stay here and count up to a hundred, then enter the office, okay?" With that, he was about to step into the office alone.<p>

"Wait, what?" Rachel yanked his arm to stop him from disappearing into the office. "You leave me here alone?" She looked around the dark foyer, fidgeted. "What if a smuggler or a murderer shows up?" Apparently the story she had heard from Finn at the restaurant haunted her.

"Rachel, breathe," Finn rubbed her arms up and down, "the entrance of this building is locked. You saw the security guard in the lobby, didn't you?" He assured. "Just wait here and count up to a hundred. Then follow the waymarks that I left. I'll wait for you at the end point."

Rachel frowned, but complied. "Okay, I'm gonna count up to a hundred."

Finn placed his lips on her forehead before pushing the front door of the office. "See you at the end point." With that, he disappeared into the office.

Rachel took a deep breath and started counting. "–ninety seven, ninety eight, ninety nine, and one hundred. I'm coming, Finn!" She cried out, her voice echoed in the foyer. She slowly pushed the door to step into the office, only to find white arrows on the floor of the corridor.

Rachel followed the arrows and stopped in front of one of the rooms which seemed like a meeting room. She gasped as she wrenched the door open and stepped in. All the walls in the room were covered a white fabric, and many photographs were pinned on the fabric.

"_START HERE."_

The big sign was written on the left wall.

Rachel approached the first picture; the city street of Dublin overlooked from a gloomy hotel room. The street, however, was not brought into focus. The window frame was. Only you could see was the drenched street in the falling rain, and the umbrellas people were putting up in the street.

Misanthropy, sadness, isolation—Rachel felt a tight knot in her chest.

The next a dozen photographs addressed the same kinds of negative expression; remorse, regret, captivated, hedged, or suffocated. None of them were a portrait. Just the street scenery, gazed blankly with the lose hope mind from somewhere outside, as if he had been forbidden to interact with people, or as if he couldn't trust anybody.

He must have been hard on himself. Sometimes, he must have been in tears as he looked into the viewfinder.

Rachel unconsciously rubbed her chest with her tight fist over and over, as if she could untie her tight knot in there with her doing so.

But one thing, that made her relieved, was that he had never stopped releasing the shutter. He had never given up hope, even if he had felt it being slipped out of his hands. Taking pictures was like his therapy, to face the music, to be true to himself.

As it was, the photographs hanging on the walls, slowly but certainly, got to be taken the place of portraits of the people who he had met in pubs during his wandering life. Still, the people in his pictures looked suffering from something even though they smiled. And Finn identified himself with them. But the soft looks they gave him and he gave them back were surely melting the wall he had created between the world he had run away from and himself.

"_GO NEXT ROOM."_

The new note was put beside the last photograph in the room. She followed the instruction and entered the next room, where was also covered a white cloth and many pictures were pinned on it.

The pictures were completely different from the ones in the previous room. Finn found himself again. Although she could see some tiredness in some of the photographs, that was not Finn's, but the object's from the day or its life.

Rachel stopped in front of one particular photograph, in which a middle aged man, who was bald on top and in Journey T-shirt, pointed to his beer belly with impish eyes behind the bar counter. "So, this is Victor." She whispered with a smile.

When she shifted her eyes to the next one, she couldn't help giggling. Every one of the people in the picture buried their heads in their hands, some of them flatted on their face down, some gazed up. Maybe their favorite football team lost, or the striker missed his shoot, or the opposite team scored. She thought.

The next picture was that the crowd in the pub all held their glasses up to the camera. She could see some of them clearly completely drunk, but even though in that state, they enjoyed the moment with Finn, and Finn gave his feeling of close ties with them back at them through the lens.

The rest of the photographs in the room were also breathtaking. Finn captured various lifestyles and emotions of the (tipsy) people in every picture. She knew that Finn, as a photographer, got more advanced.

"_NEXT ROOM IS THE LAST."_

Rachel widened her eyes as she skipped into the last room. All the photographs in the room were of _her_.

In New Orleans; one was that Mr. White twirled her around sharing laughter, another was that standing next to Blaine, she frowned listening to Mr. White at The Ninth Ward, her arms across her chest.

In London; one was that her one hand on her hip, the other formed into a fist holding up in the air, Rachel yelled at someone who was not in the picture (she assumed it was Jesse), another was that she seemed to jump up and down with Mercedes holding their hands, when she remembered they had seen Adele passing by them.

And in the office—she didn't know when he snuck into the reference room and took the picture of it. She was sleeping, falling on her face on the table. Oh, God, was she drooling? She felt her face go red.

Huffing, she moved onto the next one.

"_PULL THE CLOTH OFF."_

Was written on one of the walls in the room.

Rachel cupped her mouth with her hand as she followed the instruction. That was the picture that she was sleeping on his bed, wearing his T-shirt, in the morning after they first had shared the night. And right before they made love. She remembered.

She stared at the photograph as Finn snuck up behind her, two large hands wrapping around her waist. "This is my favorite." He turned her around to face him. "And the moment that I fell in love with you, Rachel."

Rachel opened her mouth, but none of the words came from it. She just kept staring at him. Because, she was so overwhelmed by everything that he had shown her, by this heartfelt moment. It was a rare moment that she was at a loss with words. Now her view clouded over with tears.

"I love you, Rachel. That's my three words." Finn cradled her face with his hands, looked into her eyes.

Then Rachel finally threw herself into his large frame, her arms around his neck, her face burying in it. "I love you, too, Finn." She managed to let out her feelings.

Finn held her tighter. He didn't care he would be choked by her death grip, and he knew she didn't care either she might be suffocated with his tight hold of her. They just didn't want to put any space between them now.

"God, I love you, Rachel, I'm so in love with you." Finn said into her hair. "I've wanted to tell you this for a long time. I know I once disappointed you, but," he finally, but reluctantly pulled himself away from her, "you were always here," he placed her hand on his chest. "You are the reason that I could keep photographing even when I had a tough time." He wiped her tears with his thumb. "You're my motivation, Rachel, you're my moo–"

"Moose, I know." Finishing his sentence, Rachel cracked a smile between tears. "And I love you, too, so much, Finn. But those landscape–"

"I know, I suck." Finn cut her off this time before letting out a laugh, tipping his head back. Rachel joined him.

"Thank you, Rachel." When their laughter died down, Finn lifted her hand towards his mouth to kiss the back of it.

"No, Thank _you_, Finn." Rachel said with a genuine smile, but her face immediately fell because she realized what would be her destiny; those photographs should reach more people, be staged at some exhibit or published. And she was the one to make it happen.

"What's wrong?" Finn asked with concerned eyes as he saw something was up to her.

Rachel let out a sigh.

"Finn, I have something to tell you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: The last twist. But don't worry, they're gonna work out. And the story is coming to an end. The story will end in the next two chapters (or three? Epilogue included).**

**Please review :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! While I'm evolving the epilogue from the plot, I've been thinking back and forth for a while about this chapter and… obviously, you've got three more chapters (this chapter included) to read. I hope you'll enjoy the ride to the end. And I am also writing a One Shot (AU Finchel) simultaneously—sneak peek; a psychic Broadway actress' romcom (fingers crossed).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18 – September 2012<strong>

"Finn, _Finn_!"

A jolt of his shoulder along with a female voice brought Finn back to the earth. It had been a week and a half since Rachel told him that she was moving to London, and thinking about it had been easy for him to get spaced out.

How ironic it was; what he had tried to get her spark back in her eyes, turned out that they would have to be apart from each other _again_. Although they had finally confirmed their feelings towards one another. He had thought there would be no obstacles between them anymore.

"Uh, sorry, what did you say?" Finn asked, scratching his head with embarrassment.

"The meeting was over." Harmony giggled, her hand still on his shoulder. "So, what do you say about we go grab a couple of coffee? I want to make the whole photography things clear on the Chirstmas Issue." She lightly squeezed his shoulder.

"Now? Um, I've already made a plan afterwards," Finn took a pause before punctuating, "with _my girlfriend_."

"Oh," Harmony's face fell, but she decided to ignore his emphasis on his last words. "I'm sure she understands you'll be late. You know, Xmas Issue requires immense preparation." She flirtatiously traced her fingers on his arm.

He tried to not so obviously flinch from her touch on his arm as he glanced at the time on his wrist. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the art director and the senior editor about out of the room. "I've got fifteen minutes to go, so, we can talk here." Clearing his throat, he sent a signal with his pleading eyes for Artie and Mercedes not to leave him alone with the junior editor of _The Musicraker_ in the meeting room. "And I think we need the senior editor and the art director here to discuss."

Much to Finn's relief, Artie caught the signal. "Right," he approached them, giving an understanding look at the photographer, "what do you want to talk?" He sat on a chair next to Finn. Followed Mercedes, who took a chair beside the younger editor.

Harmony tore her hand away from Finn, throwing an icy glare at the art director before turning her head to face the photographer with a smile. "You know, I forgot I have another meeting, so," she got out of the chair, "another time." Resolutely throwing a wink at Finn, she rushed out of the room.

Mercedes made a face as she watched Harmony exiting the meeting room. "What's with that girl?" She turned to face Finn. "Is she always like that?"

"More or less." Finn shook his head, letting out a relieved sigh.

If he were still a teenager, or a college student, he would have floated on air when getting girls' attention. He, however, was wiser now. He had seen it all, especially women who were having an ax to grind. Still, he was Finn Hudson; he couldn't be rude to them (okay, he admitted that it wouldn't put it past them to come on to him more forcibly).

"Well, I gotta go." Finn patted Artie on the back appreciatively as he stood up from the chair. "Thanks, guys."

"Are you gonna see Rachel later?" Artie too got out of the chair as he asked. "Is she really moving to London? I've heard it from Mercedes."

"Yeah." Finn replied absent-mindedly as he got the door for Artie and Mercedes.

"Is that okay with you? I mean–" Artie bit his tongue as Mercedes nudged his limbs.

A part of him wanted to take her by the button. Screw those photographs that he had taken in pubs in Europe. Yeah, he wanted to scream. But he couldn't forgive himself if he would hold her back from her achieving her goals as an editor, whether it was for him too or not.

"_Finn, I have something to tell you." Rachel started playing with her necklace nervously._

"_Um, okay." Finn led her to a nearest chair before he sat on it and pulled her on his lap. She seemed to hesitate, so he encouraged her to speak up him whatever she had to as he rubbed her thigh gently. "What do you have to tell me?"_

_Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his head. "I-I've got an offer an editor position at T&H." She broke an eternal silence._

"_T&H?"_

"_Tibideaux & Hueghan, one of the best art/photography publishing companies in the world." Rachel informed._

"_That's, that's awesome!" Squeezing her thigh, Finn smiled genuinely as he pulled himself slightly away from her so that he could see her join him, but soon his smile changed into a frown as he saw Rachel seem not so happy. "Isn't it? Why the long face?"_

"_It's," Rachel let out a sigh before looked into his eyes, "it's in London, Finn."_

"_Oh." Finn's face fell. "Uh," he cleared his throat, "are you gonna take it?" He examined her face as he looked back into her eyes. "You're gonna take it." He concluded as he saw her biting her lower lip._

"_Yes." Rachel breathed._

_Finn didn't know how to react. Slowly he turned his face towards the space in front of him, and just stared into it for a while. Only he felt was his grip around her waist losing strength._

_She was going to live a seven-hour-flight away from him._

"_Finn," Rachel started caressing his left cheek with a hand, the other still on his neck, "You inspire me as much as you said I you," she reasoned, leaning her head against his, "I've lost my direction in life since I left _The Musicraker_. But I-I, after you showed me your photo–"_

"_You've found it," Finn whispered, still his eyes directed into the space, "in London." He added as if he pondered the meaning._

"_Look at me, Finn, please," Rachel said desperately as she cradled his face with her tiny hands to turn it her way._

_Finn, instead of looking at her, buried his face into her chest and wrapped her torso with his arms. "When do you have to go?" He breathed into her body._

"_I don't know yet," Rachel answered, her fingers playing with the nape of his neck. "It would be cleared in a week, I suppose." She felt Finn's nod, so she called out with hesitation. "Finn?"_

_Finn finally pulled him away from her and looked up at her. "Yeah?"_

_Her eyes cast down. "What do we do now? What do you want?" She asked in a low voice as if she was afraid of an answer what she didn't want to hear. "I understand if you d–"_

_Finn pressed his forefinger onto her lips to cut her off, "Of course, I want this to work out, Rach," his hand shifted to her cheek, "I want us to work out." He gently caressed it. "Do you?"_

_Rachel nodded, threading her fingers through his hair, "I want this to work out, Finn, I want us to work out too." She buried her face in his neck. "I just don't know how."_

"_We can make it." Finn soothed the small back of her up and down gently. "We can make it, babe."_

The rest of the night, they cleared everything away from Santana's office, walked to his apartment together without saying even a word, then made love over and over until they got into the ground as if tomorrow never had come.

"Finn?"

Finn snapped out as Artie grabbed his shoulder. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

* * *

><p>Rachel was freaking out.<p>

As days passed, she got more and more stressed out.

Lacking in experience as a book editor was not an issue here since she loved to be challenged. Besides, she got fully motivated to embark on projects with definite goals—she had already submitted a draft proposal suggesting that a photography book of the tipsy people in pubs that Finn had taken should be published.

Leaving the things open question of Sylvester Publishing was not a big issue, either. Although she had been worried, especially about Mercedes, Tina and Kitty who were patiently and quietly waiting and seeing how the wind would blow.

She, however, had minutely gotten the information from Santana, Will and Beiste that Sylvester Publishing might sell off _The Musicraker_ and _Survêtement_ to The Holiday Corporation in all likelihood, and she believed one twenty hundred percent that The Holiday Corporation should rehire those three girls because of their high professional competences.

What had been perturbing her was that she might grope her way among strangers in London.

Scratch that.

What had been putting her through emotional turmoil was–

"Rach? Babe?"

_Him_.

Rachel heard that Finn threw his key into the bowl on the cabinet in the doorway. The sound of his footsteps got on towards the kitchen.

Finn had insisted that she should stay in his apartment as much as she could until her departure for London, other than for the necessary days for her to pack her stuff for moving at her childhood house in New Jersey.

That was getting her freak out the most. Because, the longer the time she spent with him, the harder it would get for her to say goodbye to him. Yes, she knew that she was the one who had made a decision to move to London, let alone she hadn't given him a chance to pronounce on it.

On top of that, she had decided it right after they had exchanged _I-love-you_s for the first time.

Sure, he seemed a bit disappointed with her decision, but he still had been the supportive, caring, and sweet Finn Hudson.

That made her start thinking whether she deserved him or not. And thinking about that kind of things only got her more stressed out. Most of people hardly could make a long distance relationship work; she had seen the roller coaster that Mercedes and Sam had ridden.

Yeah, she got what she asked for.

Rachel resumed scrubbing the floor where she didn't need to clean since she had done that two days before too. Nevertheless, she scrubbed the same spot harder, trying her best to get rid of the thoughts.

Finn walked over towards his kitchen through the smell of her homemade orange cleaner filled with the whole living room. He sighed as he saw her cleaning the kitchen floor _again_; in a span of two weeks under the same roof, he had learned that Rachel Berry was a stress cleaner. Not that he was complaining, since his apartment was cleaner than he ever could keep it. But sometimes, her freaking out freaked him out too.

Finn sat on the floor, grasping his knees, leaning against the fridge. "Hey, Rach." He softly called her name again.

Rachel paused in her task when his voice came right behind her. She straightened up on her knees before turning around to see him. "Hi, Finn." She greeted, blushing with embarrassment, before taking a flu mask off of her face and rubber gloves off her hands.

"Why don't you change your clothes? They'll be there in an hour." Finn pulled her arm to place her between his legs before pressing his lips on her forehead. "You don't want to be late, do you?"

Without answering, Rachel snuggled into his chest, wrapping her arms around his torso, listening to his heart beats.

"What's wrong?" Finn asked quietly, idly playing with her hair. "What's bothering you?"

"What if you m–"

His chest vibrated when her quiet muffled voice slipped out of her mouth, but she closed her mouth and then her eyes too, just keep listening to his steady heart beats to calm her. Then she looked up at him with a smile and asked. "Wanna take a bite my muffins before we go?"

"Rachel–"

"I baked a bunch for the party." Rachel cut him off, pulling herself away from him and stood up before grabbing the plate next to the basket full of muffins.

Finn sighed and rubbed his face as he also raised himself off the floor. "Rachel, I know something's bothering you. Tell me what's in your head." He took the plate from her hands and placed it back on the kitchen counter.

"Nothing, just," Rachel wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning her head against his chest, before whispering. "Just hold me for a while, and I'll be fine."

"Rachel."

"Please, please, just–, please, Finn."

Finn nodded in defeat. "Okay." He said and enveloped her tiny body before dropped gentle kisses on her hair.

* * *

><p>"Suck it up, Puck." Mercedes scolded at the petulant demeanor of the Mohawk.<p>

Puck had been sulking about Rachel's decision _and_ about that they didn't have a party at his bar but the upstairs of Beiste's work studio, the corner of the room, Schuester and Beiste having some serious talk.

"A bunch of Sue's people are there, you know that. Al least we catered from your bar." Mercedes thrust a large dish displayed loaded potato chips in Puck's hands. "Get to work."

With a sigh, Puck complied. He took the dish from Mercedes before making his way over towards the clothed table in the middle of the room.

"When are you going to give me a send-off party?" Kurt asked as he placed paper napkins on the table.

"Are you serious right now?" Tina snorted as she put a large basket filled with chicken wings. "You've been keeping the interview for a job at Vogue dot com from me."

"Give him a break, Tina." Blaine helpfully said as he approached them before patting Kurt on the back. "He didn't mean to upset or betray you," he faced his boyfriend, "right? Kurt?" He earned a tight smile from him.

"I don't understand why you're so upset." Kurt mumbled. "You know that Isabelle Wright is my idol and I pledged my loyalty to her."

"But al least you could've told me sooner." Tina huffed as she took another dish from her boyfriend.

"I did know that before you." Lauren, who already had attacked some chicken wings, mercilessly stated.

"Alright, enough." Mike yanked the arm of his girlfriend into him as she was about to retort. "Didn't he apologize already, did he? Why so dwelling on it?"

Tina shook her head. "Nothing, I just–," she held her tongue. She couldn't decide whether she should find a job outside of the company or just wait for The Holiday Corporation to reach an agreement with Sylvester Publishing.

Most of the workers from Sylvester Publishing got uptight recently since they didn't know what would happen to them when the company would officially announce entering into the assets purchase agreement with The Holiday Corporation, which it should officially go out to the public a month or two later at the earliest.

And Tina was one of them. Like Mercedes and Kitty, she had been too busy with the task at hand to have enough time to make a decision about her near future.

The corner of her eyes, Tina could see Ryder was joking with Matt, Jake, Joe, and Marley—she heard that the young brunette just had gotten a job offer for a secretary position at a record company this morning.

Mike, who had already had a couple of interviews for a senior writer position at some of sports magazines based in New York, rubbed his girlfriend's back up and down. "Babe, I know what's bugging you, but everything comes to those who wait." He encouraged.

Tina sighed. "I guess. But I can't help thinking there might have been anything that could be done about this. Only if the Jackass wasn't tamed by the devil." She frowned as she slipped the name from her mouth. "Where's he anyway? Didn't he give Rachel his own words that he would cooperate with us?"

"Sue beat us to it." Santana cracked her heels behind them, Brittany in tow.

Tina, Mike, Lauren, Kurt and Blaine turned around to see the Latina. Kitty and Artie approached them as they heard the name of the douche.

"What do you know about him?" Asked Artie, who had been thinking that he would create his own business with Jake.

"Sue sent him to a rehab which has a strict visitor policy. He isn't allowed to have visitors for a year." Santana informed nonchalantly, examining her manicures.

"How did you know?" Surprised, Blaine asked.

But Santana didn't answer, but smirked.

"I think you should start a private detective bureau." Kitty concluded.

"Oh, she's–"

"Brittany," Santana cut her off, "don't you need those?" she pointed to the dish filled with chocolate brownies, "for Lord Tubbington? Didn't you promise him that you would bring them home for him?"

"Oh, yes!" Brittany clapped her hands before pulling a Tupperware out of her tote bag and making her way over to the table that Santana had mentioned.

"Hey guys, Rachel and Finn are here."

Everyone turned their faces to the doorway as Mercedes called out, to find Rachel and Finn hand in hand standing there.

"Alright, let's get started!"

* * *

><p>"Have you talked to Santana?" Said Kurt in a low voice, leaning closer to his stepbrother.<p>

"Yeah." Finn mumbled as he picked three chicken wings from the plate.

Kurt raised his eyebrow as his brother didn't say much. "So?" He pressed as he neatly placed the food from the dishes on his small plate.

Finn let out a sigh. "It didn't go well."

"_You're only a greenhorn in this business, Finnocence." Santana said without tearing her eyes off of the documents in front of her. "You can not be a picky."_

"_I know, but–"_

"_Look," Interrupting before Finn could finish, Santana finally lifted her head to face him, "I'm not gonna force you to do what you don't want to, but you're in no position to do whatever you want to." She continued, not letting him have a chance to speak. "At least you'll have a greater opportunity to go there, if–"_

"_If her proposal gets approved," Finn completed under his breath, "I know." He ran a hand through his hair as started pacing around._

"_Then you can fly for free to bang your midget. What more could you ask for?" Santana said bluntly before resuming the documents._

Remembering Santana's words, Finn scrunched his nose.

When Kurt was about to open his mouth, Mercedes clinked her wine glass to get the people's attention. "Time for the group photo!"

Finn and Kurt turned around, only to find that Matt had already set his tripods, waiting for everyone to be drawn up in a few lines for his camera. So, they walked over to the rest of the people to join.

Finn circled to stand behind Rachel, wrapping his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.

Mercedes and Tina sandwiched Rachel as Mike stood behind his girlfriend, his hands on Tina's shoulders. Puck crouched down before his cousin, brushing Rachel's hand away from his Mohawk.

Artie and Kitty climbed on the chairs behind Mike in the back row, Santana and Brittany diagonally behind Mercedes.

Jake and Ryder sat on the floor with their hands on the knees next to the Mohawk, Marley positioning between the two young guys. Joe put his hands on his knees, placing himself on the right side of Puck.

Kurt and Blaine stood next to Mike, Will and Beiste separating both sides of the gang.

"Alright," Matt lastly joined them as he circled the gang to be on his feet behind Santana and Brittany before he released the remote.

"Are you ready? One, two, three, smile!"

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you don't want us to be at the airport?" Mercedes asked.<p>

Rachel just shook her head. "I'll call you when I land in there."

"You're going to be back at Thanksgiving or Christmas break, right?" Tina hugged Rachel back.

"I hope so." Rachel answered.

"Good luck, Rachel. I'm sure you won't let Madam Tibideaux down though." Will patted her on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Will." Rachel gave him a smile before yanking her cousin into her. "Noah," she hugged the Mohawk tightly, "don't break Mer's heart, okay?" She whispered in his ear.

Puck reluctantly hugged her back. "Okay." He mumbled.

Rachel hugged one by one, trying to let her tears fall, before she left Beiste's studio. "Thanks, guys, for tonight, and everything." She gave them a force smile. "I'm really sorry I can't see through, but I hope all goes well."

"Don't worry kid, I'll take care of it." Beiste patted her on the back.

Rachel nodded. "Thank you, Shannon."

* * *

><p>"You remember the ice cream parlor in the East Village?" Peering through the window, Rachel asked when she and Finn were in a cab on the way to his apartment.<p>

Finn let out a small laugh. "Yeah, the one that I dropped my ice cream on a tattoo guy and almost got a blow, right?"

"That was my fault." Giggling, Rachel turned her head to see Finn before squeezing his arm. "I want to have Pistachio Soft Serve!"

"Now?" Surprised, Finn looked down at her. "Babe, it's almost midnight."

"The parlor is open 24/7, Finn." Rachel assured. "And I don't wear those stupid 10-inch high heels tonight, so don't worry, I won't stumble."

"Rachel, that's not what I meant." Finn protested as he put his hand on hers on his arm. Truth be told, he wanted to spend the last night in the City with Rachel in bed. The next day, she would be at her childhood house, saving the last day for her father Hiram. Then he would pick her up with a rental car the next morning to the JFK.

"I didn't eat that much, so my stomach has room for another dessert." Rachel reasoned. "I'm sure you still have room for it too. Or you don't need to have it. I'll have it either way." She gently patted the partition of the cab to let the driver know their direction change, "To 113 Avenue A, East Village, please."

Then Rachel slowly turned her head to the window to looking the shifting scenes of the City outside the window.

Finn started at the back of her head for a moment. "Fine. Anything you want, Rach." He murmured.

* * *

><p>Rachel was not ready for going (his) home. Because, it would get more real for her to leave New York and Finn once she would step into his apartment. Of course, Rachel wanted to be held in his arm all night on the last night with him.<p>

She knew that Finn was patiently waiting for her to finish her ice cream (he had already finished his and now was staring at her across the table). Her ice cream, however, didn't last long. She reluctantly took her last bite.

"Ready to go home?" Finn gave her a small smile before offering his hand for her to stood up.

Rachel bit her lower lip before nodding. She took his hand and got out of her chair before looping her arms around his.

Thankfully, they hailed a cab as soon as they reached 1st avenue, though Rachel got quiet once more in the cab on the way back to his apartment.

When the cab driver finally pulled over in front of his apartment and they got out of it, Rachel abruptly stopped her feet moving and yanked Finn's arm. "I don't want to go home yet." She blurted out. And she looked up at Finn with pleading eyes. "How about we stroll around Hudson River Park?"

Finn sighed as he glanced at the time—it was past 1 am. But he complied. "Okay."

As they got closer to the park, something irrational feelings surged up from Rachel's stomach. "You shouldn't be nice." She whispered.

"What?" Finn looked down at Rachel, who was clinging to his arm.

"You're too good to me." Rachel bit her bottom lip.

Finn frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Rachel looked up at him. "Are you fine with this?"

Confused, Finn frowned deeper. "Seriously, Rachel, what are you talking about?"

"Why didn't you ever say no to me?" Rachel started pacing around in the street. "You're too nice, too understanding, Finn!" She didn't realize that she raised her voice.

Taken aback for a second, Finn stared at Rachel moving back and forth, biting her nails. "What do you want me to say, Rachel?" He quietly asked. "You want me to say 'don't go'? Is that really what you want to hear?"

"No!" Rachel cried out, "No, I-I don't know!" She plumped herself down on a curb—which was usually horrifying for her to do because of germs, but now she didn't care—, her head in her hands.

Frustrated with that he didn't understand what was going on in her head, Finn ran a hand through his hair. "What could I say to you, Rachel?" His voice was still quiet. "Last time I checked, _you_ made a decision, not me!" Raising his voice, he began pacing in front of Rachel, rubbing his tired face. "Do you think it's easy for me?" He stopped before her. "The second you said you loved me, you decided to live thirty five hundred miles away from me!" He yelled.

She knew that what she was doing didn't make sense, being irrational, lack of coherence. "I know I did!" She buried her face in her hands, trying to hide her tears threatening to fall.

Finn let out a deep breath as he saw her start sobbing. "Rachel–" He stepped closer to her, before crouching down and placing his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"I'm sorry I was being crazy." She admitted between shaky breaths. "I just, I think I'm a little bit nervous before going to London."

Finn sat on the curb next to Rachel, his arms on his knees. "A little bit?" He playfully nudged her tiny body with his large one, hoping her mood would be lifted. "You scrubbed every inch of my apartment."

Rachel cracked a smile despite herself before admitting, okay, _a lot_." She finally lifted her head up to face Finn, wiping her runny nose with the back of her hand, which she earned his chuckles, so she hurriedly took some facial tissues from her purse to blow her nose. "I'm sorry." She said again.

"You know," Finn started, "I would be lying if I said that nothing is unpredictable, but," he held her shoulder to get her closer to him, "we both agreed that we wanted us to work out, right?" He felt Rachel's nod on his shoulder. "Then we can make it."

"But If–"

"Even _IF_ something happens between us," Finn interrupted, "I'll always find you. Because I love you too much to lose you." He looked down at her. "Will you find me too?"

Rachel tilted her head to see him and nodded. "I will, Finn, I will." She leaned her head on his shoulder again. "I love you, Finn, so much. And thank you." She closed her eyes, wishing that time could just stop as it was now.

"I love you too, Rachel." Finn pressed his lips on her head.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :)<strong>


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the responses! Now the story is coming to an end. But you'll have an epilogue next chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it. Wish a very Merry Xmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19 – November 2013<strong>

Life in London was completely different from the one in New York. Not only did she have her close friends and Finn around her, but also 9-17:30 regular working hours and enough me time because of it were not welcome changes to her liking.

Since The Holiday Corporation officially announced about a year ago that it had entered into a definitive agreement to purchase the paper publication assets of Sylvester Publishing (and was expected to be completed on December 31, 2012), her catching up regularly on the phone with her friends had been completely ruined until the magazine took firm root.

Rachel couldn't complain about it though.

More than half the people who had been working for _The Musicraker_ and _Survêtement _were rehired by The Holiday Corporation. Although, the two magazines had to be integrated into a new men's magazine focused on fashion, lifestyle and culture that could shed some light on new and more mature readers, since the purchaser already published the famous girl's fashion magazine, _Minijupe_, the women's one _Concepción_, and the music mag, _Voix_.

Which meant that a huge reorganization was required, and it forced Mercedes, Tina and Kitty to be up to their neck in work.

As for Sue Sylvester, well, there was always a bad apple in the bunch somewhere.

Rachel, sitting on a bench in the Regent's Park with her dog on one warm Saturday afternoon, let out a deep sigh.

Her dog, which had been unclaimed for a while since he was born with a necrotic ear and a limp, was the Shiba/Bulldog mix Rachel immediately had fallen in love with when she had passed by an animal house shelter in New York at Thanksgiving break last year. She'd, however, had to give up being his caretaker and bringing him (her London) home with her, because she hadn't had enough time for travel procedure to fly with a pet.

Being the sweetest boyfriend as he was, Finn had a different idea. He'd got her him as her 29th birthday gift after secretly having made an arrangement for her to adopt the dog and fly back to London with him.

A smile crept into her lips, recalling the day he, standing at her childhood house's door with a lopsided grin when he had been invited at Berry's family dinner for Hanukkah, had held the puppy with a pink ribbon around the collar in his arms.

"Wow, such a coincidence meeting you here! What's up?"

Rachel snapped out at a male voice. "Huh?" She turned to her right, only to find her coworker in a light yellow shirt and a brown jacket with his glasses already sitting next to her. "Oh, hello, Max." Her gaze shifted to the ground, where a long white-brown haired Weimaraner was quietly lying down beside the owner's leg.

"Didn't know you lived in this area."

Like Rachel, Max Goldwin, forty something years old man, had moved to London from New York to work for T&H a couple of years before. There was one thing, however, that was very distinct from Rachel's situation. The thick black curly haired man had moved to London. With his wife.

"Oh, no, no, my flat is close to City University, but I, uh, often to come here, so that Delka can play off-leash."

"Delka?" He arched his eyebrow.

"Yep, that's his name." Rachel gestured to her dog on the ground.

"Delka is a boy's name?"

"I believe it's a unisex name." Rachel replied firmly. "But it's actually short for Koudelka."

"Oh, I see." Max let out a small laugh, all too well knowing her obsession with Josef Koudelka.

"And yours?" Rachel leaned down a little to pet his dog.

"Gracie." He looked down at his dog staring playing with Rachel's.

"Did she move from New York with you guys?" Rachel asked, smiling her dog approaching Gracie and trying to tuck the skinner dog into underneath his own body.

"No, my wife got her from a breeder who Celine knew a year ago." Max informed along with another coworker's name. "We don't have a kid, Lane easily gets bored, so, you know." He shrugged.

As far as Rachel knew, Max's wife, Lane Goldwin, used to work as an accountant at some firm in New York. She, however, quit her job when Max had to move to London.

Rachel just nodded at Max's explanation, biting her bottom lip.

Why couldn't women have it all?

Her mind once again drifted to her relationship with Finn.

"Are you excited?" Max casually asked, interrupting her reverie. "Your boyfriend's photography book is coming out in two weeks."

Rachel widened her eyes at his statement. It was not like she purposely hid her relationship with Finn, but she had decided that it would be not necessary for them to know it, in case that they could take it that she would mix business with pleasure.

"Don't be surprised." Max said nonchalantly. "I don't think people always need to keep personal life private at work. I believe that sometimes it brings the best results at work. You know, it's kind of the company's philosophy, too." He patted her on the shoulder. "Besides, his photographs are really good. _'Tipsies' _is gonna catch a great deal of attention, like his exhibits already did."

Rachel gave her coworker a smile forcibly.

"Thank you," were all she could say.

* * *

><p>"Ms. Berry."<p>

Rachel lifted her head from the colored proof sheets on her desk when a voice calling her name came from the doorway. She turned around to find the woman in a Turban standing there. "Madam Tibideaux."

"Go home, Ms. Berry." Madam Tibideaux suggested. "Enjoying your own time brings you the best results at work." She recited her company motto.

Rachel glanced at the time on the wall, which indicated past 7 pm. The other workers had already gone home (or to a pub).

"I lost track of time." Rachel said with embarrassment as she began putting the proof sheets away from her desk.

"I love your perfectionism though. You're the one of the most strived people I've ever met." Carmen stated before adding. "Just as Mr. St. James mentioned."

"W-what?" Widening her eyes, Rachel stammered. "You mean, Jesse St. James?"

Carmen nodded firmly. "It's a shame that he ruined his own life and talent by his drinking habit." She got the door for Rachel, waiting for her to leave the office.

"It is." Rachel picked her bag from the desk and made her way towards the doorway. "Um, may I ask how you knew about it?" She looked up at the publisher when she was about to exit the office.

"George St. James used to work here, so I've been acquainted with his nephew since he was a kid." Carmen informed. "I've read his articles here and there too." She adjusted her glasses. "His passion and writing structure were admirable, although he showed a tendency for his articles to run into noises with his ego." She encouraged Rachel to step out into the corridor. "He still has an eye on high competence anyhow."

To say that this new information dumbfounded Rachel was an understatement. So, Jesse had put in a good word to expiate his guilt so that she could get a new job.

But, she was not only one who had gotten pushed around by Sue's plot, even if it might have been inevitable without Jesse's having a part in. And it resulted in her being apart from Finn again, though she didn't (or didn't want to) believe that Jesse had done that intentionally.

Having said that, she couldn't just quit T&H easily only because her position at T&H might have been secured by Jesse's recommendation. Especially now, that Finn's first photography book was just about to be launched. No. Especially right after his book release. Besides, she already had three books to be supposedly published next year.

Oh, God, how was she supposed to do?

After exchanging _see-you-on-Monday_s with Madam Tibideaux, mentally draining, Rachel took a deep breath before she started walking towards the nearest tube station, Holborn.

* * *

><p>"Finn!"<p>

Rachel jumped up and down in the arrival lounge at Heathrow airport when she saw the large frame towering over the others.

Once Finn spotted his girlfriend's tiny figure in the crowd, he hightailed it pushing his trolley towards her before he scooped her off of the floor. "Hi, baby."

"I've missed you, Finn." She buried her face in his neck before breathing in her favorite smell.

"I've missed you, too, Rach." He pulled his upper body from her and pressed his lips firmly on hers repeatedly, ignoring the looks that they gained from the crowd passing by them.

Because, aside from the fact that Finn had visited T&H a few times last few months for participating in the meetings for his first photography book to be published (and of course they called, texted, or skyped almost every day), it had been almost three months since they actually spent longer time alone than a few hours.

"Let me take you home." Rachel whispered in his ear and slipped herself down onto the floor.

As luck would have it, Finn had gotten super busy since his exhibit—presented by T&H and The Holiday Corporation, with the association of Harman Technology Limited, which made/sold ILFORD brand of black and white photographic products—in New York in last May got good publicity.

Even though T&H had approved her proposal of which a photography book by Finn should be published, the company suggested that some exhibits be staged first, in the United States and (after in the US) in some cities in Europe—thanks to his work for _AL Intensity_ and _The Musicraker_, the name of Finn Hudson came to attention in the United States, but he had a low profile in Europe yet.

So, since the exhibits in New York happened, he had not only traveled back and forth between New York and Berlin, Paris and London, but got more job offers from various magazines and ad agencies constantly.

"Santana texted me about Ryder being like a rooster for the next month book launch party in New York." Rachel said before she climbed into a taxi.

Finn chuckled as he helped the driver to place his luggage into the boot. "Yeah, he's got more stoked than I am as if it happened to him." He perched himself on the back seat beside her and pulled her into him.

Rachel rested her head on his shoulder. "So, haven't you read any reviews about your exhibit yet?" She tilted her head to look up at him, already knowing his answer.

"Nope, I've not and I won't."

"Why?" Rachel asked. "They all were favorably reviewed. Especially Sara Hogan, you know, the Guardian columnist, wrote a _really_ good one about your exhibit in London. I framed the article and hung it on the wall." She proudly announced.

Finn threw his head back with a light laughter. "So that I could accidentally read it?" He looked down at her.

"That's not my intention, but that's not the point, either." Rachel gently nudged him.

"I don't care what people say about my work. Your opinion matters." Finn placed his lips on her temple. "You're my number one critic, right?"

"Hmm, I would say that I'm your number one fan." Rachel stroked his thigh.

"Nah, more like my number one critic." Finn shook his head. "You practically dogged out my landscape photographs a few weeks ago."

"I did not!" Rachel gasped, scandalized.

"You did too."

"Fine, yes, you should stay away from taking scenic pictures." Rachel mumbled before punctuating. "But you should know, you're a very talented portrait photographer."

"And you're a psychic." Finn nudged her playfully. "But seriously," his face got in all seriousness, "you are the one to make my dreams come true, Rach."

Rachel frowned. "No, Finn," she turned her head to face him, "don't be so humble. You and your talent did, not me."

Finn stared at her for a moment. "You have no idea how much I love you." He leaned his head down to place his lips on hers, his hands cupping her cheeks, gently caressing them.

* * *

><p>Over the course of their long distance relationship, she got addicted to staring at her boyfriend in sleep whenever they could share the same bed.<p>

And thinking; how long would it continue? The one between Mercedes and Sam had crumbled in six months. Finn and she had kept theirs over a year. But when would it come to an end? She really was sick as hell of being apart from him. She would be 30 next month. She wanted a kid, her own family, someday, hopefully with Finn. Did this mean that she should quit her job and move back to New York? Then what? What would she do in New York?

And what did Finn make of this situation and their future?

The more her brain got occupied with the thoughts, the more she got awake. She quietly slipped herself out of the bed, and walked over towards the kitchen on her tiptoes.

The sound of her footsteps towards the kitchen woke her dog up. When she planted the kettle on the stove, Delka approached her and started licking her bare foot.

"Oh, I'm sorry, baby." Rachel cooed in a hushed tone, scooping him up in her arms. "I didn't mean to wake you up." She whispered against between his eyebrows.

She shifted him to her shoulder, holding him in one arm, as if he was her (real) baby, while she poured hot water into the mug.

"I envision this at times."

Startled, Rachel whirled around to find Finn standing the doorway, leaning against the door frame, his arms crossing, a lopsided smile on his face.

Too startled to figure it out what he had just said, Rachel blinked a few times. "W-what'd you just say?"

Finn stepped closer to her (them) and took her mug away from her to place it on the kitchen counter, before he put his hands on her waist, looking down at her, his soft smile never betrayed his face. "You, me, and our kid or kids, someday."

"Ar, um," Rachel choked, "are you proposing me?" She managed to let out her words, but her voice almost inaudible, wondering whether the astonishment by his sudden appearance or his implication of their future caused the loud beat around her chest.

"No, yes, I mean," Finn took a pause, looking up at the ceiling, before his eyes returned to boring into hers. "We need to talk." He carefully picked Delka up away from her body and deposited him down on the floor. Then he led her toward the bedroom.

Having entered the room, they sat side by side on the edge of the bed in silence for a while.

"I was–"

"If I–"

They looked at each other and laughed nervously.

"Can I speak first?" Rachel asked. "I have something to tell you."

Finn just nodded with a quizzical look, so Rachel continued after having taken a breath. "Um, if I were your ex, and–"

"You won't be my ex, Rach," Finn interrupted, frowning.

"No, no, Finn, I didn't mean that." Rachel put her hand on his knee. "I just wanted to ask you as to how to deal with some situation."

"Okay."

"Okay." Rachel nodded. "If I were your ex, and forced you out of work, but," she cast down her eyes, her fingers splaying out on her laps, "you happened to find out that I had put in a good word for you to find another job, what would you do?"

"Uh," Finn rubbed the back of his neck, "what does–" He abruptly closed hi mouth as he realized what his girlfriend had implied. He slowly turned his head to see her face. "You mean, Jesse did that?"

"It looks like he did," Rachel sighed, "unfortunately."

Finn ran a hand through his hair, not knowing what to say. He stood up from the bed and started pacing around, trying his best to suppress his urges of punching or kicking something. "When did you find it out?" He stopped himself and asked.

"Yesterday." Rachel murmured, her eyes casting down.

"Why didn't you call me right away?" He raised his voice. Fuck. The douche. Did he do it on purpose? If so, he deserved a fist or two.

"Don't yell at me, Finn." Rachel pleaded in a low voice. "I couldn't get my thoughts straight."

Finn pinched the bridge of his nose before perching himself on the bed next to her again. He sighed. "Do you think, uh, he did it on purpose?"

She shook her head. "I don't know." She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm sure he knew something was going on between us, but I'd not been interested in working at T&H until they offered me a job," she sighed, "and been undecided until you showed me your photographs, so…"

Finn nodded. He draped his arm around her shoulder before pressing his lips on her hair. "Do you love your job at T&H?"

"Yes," Rachel held her tongue.

"But?"

"But, I," Rachel hesitated, "I miss New York, I miss my friends, my father," Rachel let out a sigh, "I miss _you_."

"I miss you too, Rach." Finn squeezed her shoulder.

After an eternal silence, Finn opened his mouth again. "What if I said I wanted to move in with you?"

"What?" Rachel widened her eyes and lifted her head up to face him.

"I was thinking, uh," Finn scratched his head, "Max introduced an agency based in London the last time I was at your office for the meeting."

"But, what about _Trenteetun_?" Rachel pointed out. Finn shouldn't do this for her. _Trenteetun_, The Holiday Corporation's new magazine, was important for his career. "It's so sweet of you, but I can't let you do that for me."

"Of course, I'll work for _Trenteetun_. But London could be my hub of photographing." Finn insisted.

"Did you talk to your mother about this?" Rachel cautiously asked. "You and your mother are very close."

"Lima is my hometown, but you are my home, Rach." Finn gently caressed her cheek. "She'll understand."

"I love you, Finn," Rachel closed her eyes, tilting her head against his large hand, "but we need time for further discussing." She opened her eyes.

"You don't want me to move in with you?" Finn frowned.

"Of course, I do." Rachel cupped his face. "You are my home, too, Finn. But I don't want you to regret anything."

"I won't regret anything!" Finn protested. "I love you, Rachel. I just want to be with you, you know, _literally_."

"What about," Rachel paused, "I move back to New York?"

"What?" Taken aback a little, Finn stared at her for a second in disbelief. "Is that what you really want? What about T&H?" Finn ran a hand through his hair. "Rachel, I'm a freelancer. I can work whenever I want."

Rachel bit her bottom lip before wrapping her arms around his torso. "What should I do to deserve you?" She whispered against his chest.

"You don't need to do anything, babe." Finn placed his lips on her hair. "Just be you. Be my number one critic."

Rachel let out a small laugh. "I love you, Finn." She closed her eyes. "More than anything."

"I love you too, Rachel, so so much."

* * *

><p>The book launch party at The Langham in London was on a high note. Rachel felt some leads; a bright future would wait for Finn Hudson as a photographer.<p>

Rachel looked across at the photographer, who was chatting with some columnists and her coworkers, as she sipped her red wine. And she gave him a small wave of her hand when he turned his head in the direction where she was standing. He gave, in return, her his signature lopsided grin, which made her heart easily melt.

"Ms. Berry." Carmen called her name from behind. "Sorry to keep you waiting. What did you want to talk about?"

"On a frankly personal basis," Rachel started, "I'm not comfortable with the fact that I got hired at T&H because of Mr. St. James."

Carmen arched her eyebrow. "Ms. Berry, you have the nerve to say that I deem my workers' values by some green's opinion?"

Rachel gasped. "N-no! I didn't mean that, Madam Tibideaux."

"I know well of what he did to you, Ms. Berry. And I understand that you feel uncomfortable with his good offices." Carmen said with a stony face. "You are talented, you have drive. So, use your ability at T&H," she took a pause, "in New York."

Rachel, who had drooped her head expecting the publisher to scold, shot up in disbelief at her statement, only to see the woman in a Turban sporting a hint of a smile (or smirk?) around her lips.

"You might have not noticed, but I've selected a highly capable human resource from Paris and New York for years to establish overseas branches next year." Carmen placed her hand on Rachel's shoulder. "So, I hired you for New York branch to begin with. Why do you think _I_ went to New York all the way from London?" She let out a small laugh.

"May I ask when it would happen?" Rachel cautiously asked.

"Three months to six." Carmen informed. "But be prepared for yourself, you'll be pressed by starting it up." With that, she walked away from Rachel.

Rachel, still her jaw dropping open, stared at the back of Madam Tibideaux, overwhelming by the new information, not aware that Finn approached her.

"Close your mouth or you'll catch flies." Finn chuckled, putting his hand on her small back. "What?" Still chuckling, he shifted his hands on her shoulders as he saw her mouth merely quivering. "Rachel?"

"I'm going home." Rachel slowly looked up at Finn. "I'm going home, Finn!"

"What do you mean?" Finn tilted his head to one side.

"I'm going to work at New York office, Finn!" Rachel jumped into his large frame, her arms clinging to his neck. "It'll be in three to six months, but I'm going home!" She pressed her lips all over his face. She didn't care getting attention of many people at the party. Because she didn't care.

Finn laughed at her excitement, scooping her up and holding tighter.

"Oh!" Rachel tore her face away from his neck. "Have you already talked to the agency that you mentioned?"

"Yes and no, I mean, I've talked to them with Max a few minutes ago, but no details." Finn informed. "You said we needed time for further discussion, didn't you?"

"Are you not mad at me? I mean, are you okay that London wouldn't be your hub?" Rachel untied her arms from his neck and landed herself on the floor. "Or, I don't think it's a bad idea you have another hub in London, because I'm sure that you'll get a lot of offers from British magazines and ad agencies, too." She bit her bottom lips with uneasiness.

"Rachel, look at me." Finn lifted her chin with his forefinger. "You are my home, remember? That ain't no lie, babe." He gave her a chaste kiss on her lips.

"Oh Finn." Rachel pressed herself up against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I can't wait to wake up every morning in your arms."

"Me, either." Finn repeatedly kissed her hair.

"I'm going to call Noah!" Rachel abruptly pulled herself from Finn and dragged him into the hallway before she fished her cell phone out of her purse.

"_Who the fuck do you think I am? You've not called me–"_

"Noah!" Rachel cut him off, ignoring his petulant manner, "I'm going home!"

"_Huh?"_

"I'm going home!" Rachel repeated.

"_I know you'll come home next month."_

"No, I'm moving back to New York next year, Noah!" Rachel yelled. "Are you with Mer? Put her on." She demanded.

"_Rachel? Aren't you at the launch party tonight? How was it?"_

"Good, great, he's going to be one of the best photographers of the century!" Rachel glanced up at her boyfriend, who looked at her with a warm smile and circled around to wrap his arm around her from behind. "And I'm moving back to New York next year, Mer."

"_What? You're gonna quit?"_

"No! Mer. T&H is going to have its overseas branches next year." Rachel panted.

"_Oh my goodness! Tina! Kitty!"_

"_Give it back, Aretha!"_

"_No, Puck, don't touch me!"_

"_Fuck! What was that for?"_

Rachel giggled. "Mer, I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Say hello to Tina and Kitty."

After having hung up the phone, Rachel turned around in Finn's arms before looking up at him, beaming.

"Ready to go home?" Finn thread his fingers through her hair.

"Yes, I'm ready." Rachel nodded.

Linking their arms, they emerged from the hotel into the chilly street.

"So, what do you think?" Finn casually asked.

"Of what?"

"You, me, and our kid, someday."

"I like the idea."

"Yeah?"

"Hmm-hmm." Rachel looked up at him. "And Delka too."

"Of course."

"And I want an official proposal from you."

"Of course. I haven't gotten a ring for you yet." Finn let out a hearty laugh. Rachel joined his laughter.

Rachel couldn't wait for someday turning to be the day, their days.

In New York, with Finn.

With a new little life.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know, Finn Hudson's first photography book title 'Tipsies' which, as you already noticed (and maybe have gotten vaguely aware of over the course of the story), is parodied Koudelka's 'Gypsies,' is kind of lame! But it was fixed a long time ago. So I stuck to it.**

**Concepción is the female character from the comic opera 'L'heure Espagnole.' The opera ends with the following phrase; Among all lovers, only the efficient succeed, The moment arrives, in the pursuit of love! LOL.**

**Please review :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: So, this is the last chapter of the story. I would very much like to say thank you for taking time to read this story and post the reviews! I hope you'll enjoy the last chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue – December 2018<strong>

He loved waking up before his wife. He loved savoring the moments and the sights he could see right after his opening eyes from sleep.

Especially he loved staring at their feet—you could see how _externally_ different they were, her tiny feet barely reached his sins. At times those toned legs would be tangled with his, because her cold feet needed a toaster to warm, or they cuddled in sleep after making love, or he wanted to just feel her smooth skin to assure that it was not a dream.

They might have different characteristics, too, but always understood who they were, what they were; they could read each other like a book. They knew everything about each other's flaws. They had seen each other's lowest point. They knew how important they were for each other. Even if they had a fight, they promised that they never shut the other out from another (again); they knew where to find the other or how letting her/him spew out all the emotions when s/he retreated into her/himself.

Now, you could see the soles of her feet. Since she came home from hospital after her first childbirth about a year and a half ago, she had firmly announced that she was going to keep sleeping on her stomach until she became less able next time.

He witnessed that she slept lying on her back in the middle of the night more often than not though. But he knew that she would refuse to admit her sleeping posture on her back. So, he pretended not to notice it, or sometimes brought it up just to tease her; it was super fun for him to watch an offended expression on her face after all.

And that scar on his right foot? That was Delka's fault (and his wife's loud scream).

It was right after they were engaged. The dog attempted to rescue his then fiancée from him and yanked so hard the hem of his sweatpants, which was a totally misunderstanding because he just gave her the best orgasm with his fingers in the kitchen, he swore, not assaulted. Thanks to a Bulldog gene, he stumbled and fell on his backside, his right foot hit hard to the corner of the counter, the corner gnawed by the dog of all the places. Three stitches. Great.

He loved waking up after her too. Because, her look was so full of love—she once had said that she was addicted to staring at his sleeping face and posture—, which he got overcome by an impulse to grab his camera when his eyes met hers. Although, much to his disappointment, she immediately buried her face into her pillow, saying that she would not let him have her dead to rights on her drooling, as he leveled his camera towards her.

The sight of their bed in the morning was pretty much telling who they were, what the history between them was (not only in the long term but in the short term also).

And now one or two additions to their history were joining their bed in any minute.

Sitting up on the bed, he waited the moment coming, hearing the light footsteps behind the door, his camera already in one hand.

* * *

><p>As Finn predicted, the figure of the height 2'7" poked its head around the slightly opened door, the fawn creature beside her bare feet.<p>

Finn gestured for her to be quiet with his forefinger pressing onto his lips, before beckoning her into the room.

The toddler, attempting to suppress her giggles with her tiny balled hands onto her mouth, trotted towards the bed, as the dog followed her. Then she tried to help the dog jump up to the bed before she herself climbed onto it. And as usual (since she came to walk by herself), perched herself on the vacant spot right below her mother's feet.

Finn's eyes softened as he saw the small figure in a pink fluffy PJ throwing her legs onto his, her big brown eyes inherited from her mother widening expectantly, familiar freckles underneath those eyes, her hand patting on the head of Delka, which was now depositing himself between Rachel's parted legs.

"Good morning, my baby moose." Finn grinned at the mini Rachel after a few shutters.

"Good morning." In a hushed tone said Audrey Madeline Hudson, crawling towards him before settling herself on her father's laps before leaning against his chest. "Daddy, Uka want food."

"Why don't you wake Mommy up?" Finn suggested as he dropped his lips on the top of his 2 years and seven months daughter's head.

Audrey nodded before she climbed off of his laps and leaned her face down to the same eye level. She reached her mother's cheek to touch just like her father would do (but unlike her father, not caressing but poking) and whispered. "Mommy, Mommy, Uka want food."

Rachel's eyes flew open feeling tiny warm fingers pushing her cheek, before smiling to find her daughter's figure in front of her face. "Hi, baby, good morning." Her arm automatically reached Audrey and tucked her into her body. "Delka? _You_ want to have breakfast, don't you? Hmm?" She flipped herself and her daughter over and started tickling her daughter's belly, which Delka narrowly escaped from the cage of Rachel's legs.

"Mommy, no! No tickle!" Audrey squeaked, trying to tear her mother's arms away from her.

The dog, for the littlest one's sake, jumped onto Rachel's stomach, which caused Rachel to give up tickling Audrey, gasping at the weight for two kids. "I'm your mother, too, Delka." She gave a look to the dog, before looking up at Audrey with a smile. "How about Daddy makes pancakes?"

"Chocolate?" Audrey's eyes twinkled.

"No chocolate, sweetie," Rachel saw her daughter's face fall a little, so she hurriedly added, "but strawberries. How about that?" She saw Audrey nodding. "Finn?" She pleaded with her eyes for him to get their daughter and the dog out of her body as he was about to put his camera on the night table.

Sometimes, Finn felt surreal at the fact that he had his own family.

His beautiful family.

He always believed that Rachel was the one. Even though it was such a short term when he realized that he fell in love with her, he knew that she was his person. Even when he was lost, he never gave up being with her (or you could say that he never wanted to give up). But, truth be told, he had been unable to think that he would live with the girl of his dream happily ever after like this when Vanessa had deluded him into the belief that he had knocked her up.

The three pairs of big brown eyes (of course, he couldn't eliminate Delka, he would never listen to Finn again otherwise) were always challenging him, pushing him to a better husband, a better father, a better person, and a better photographer.

"Morning, beautiful." Finn leaned down towards his wife to give a kiss. "C'mon, munchkin." He scooped his daughter up and climbed out of the bed, setting her on his hip, her head on his shoulder. "Delka, you too." He gestured for the dog out of the bed.

Yeah, he definitely loved waking up like this.

* * *

><p>"I still don't see why you insisted that that page be kept blank that way." Rachel whined as they were heading for the studio 530 in Chelsea, where the exhibit opening partythe book launch party would be held at once, between their each hand Audrey swinging.

Once they found out that Rachel was conceived, Finn came to know how glowing pregnant women got to be. Which inspired him and made him come up with an idea for _Trenteetun_; a picture and an interview of working mothers carrying a baby in their belly, celebrities or not, in a men's magazine. The editor in chief, Carl Howell, liked his idea and immediately approved it.

The serial article 'Lives in Women' easily caught on with the black and white photographs taken with the Hasselblad 1600F by Finn Hudson, and with the article, which sometimes hard for male readers to take, and sometimes very much intrigued for them to know, interviewed and written by the writer named Elliott Gilbert, who was really good at writing about the ideal and the reality of pregnancy in a frank, but a funny, witty, and neutral way.

The article lasted over two years (two or three women featured monthly). Now the collection book waited to be published, and the exhibit was held a few days prior to the date the book was released.

Of course, Rachel had been in charge of editing her husband's second photography book. She, however, couldn't convince him that the book would be better off without the blank page next to the back of the title page (too many blank pages!).

Little did she know that the blank page was not really a blank.

"I don't understand why Max gave the okay with it, either." Rachel added.

Finn chuckled at her unpleasant manner, though it was hard for him to hide his true intention from her for so long (thanks to Max's and the other editors' help, he successfully kept it from his wife). "You'll like it once you see it."

"I'm not sure." Rachel mumbled before looking up at him. "But other than that, well-finished. I really love those pictures. They are very _you_, you know."

"Yes! Very Daddy!" Chimed in Audrey, who had just started mimicking her mother's critic on every photograph they looked at.

Finn arched his eyebrow and picked his daughter up. "Really? How so?"

"You're very talented!" Audrey sounded plausibly as she recited her mother's words she listened to frequently.

"Why thank you, Audrey." He kissed her on the cheek before giving a look to his wife, who gave a shrug back to him as if she wanted to say that it was the truth.

* * *

><p>Not only the workers from <em>Trenteetun<em> and T&H, but also the former workers at _The Musicraker_, _Survêtement_, the people who had worked with them, their friends and family members, all were at the party. Now the floor was in great bustle.

Mercedes and Kitty (and to everybody's surprise, Harmony, too) had transferred to _Voix_ (Rachel presumed that her best friend might be the next editor in chief in a few years), Tina, who was now with two kids, to _Concepción_, and Blaine was the senior writer at _Trenteetun_.

As she had heard, Artie had started his firm with Jake, Joe and Lauren. Mike was working at _ESPN_, Kurt at _Vogur dot com_, of course.

Ryder had just started standing on his own feet as a photographer, but still helped Finn as an assistant at times (though Finn's first assistant was now an Irish guy named Rory).

Brittany had quit her job at Sylvester Publishing and opened a bakery shop somehow.

Will Schuester still taught at NYU, Beiste stayed as a craft woman for old equipment.

And Puck was, other than having become a family man minus his trademark of a Mohawk, Puck forever.

"Nice!" Smirking, Puck gestured to Audrey's red sweater, which was like a replica of Rachel's owl one.

"You don't say anything when others wear those sweaters, why do you bother letting me know what I or my daughter wear every time, Noah?" Rachel glared at her cousin, her arms folding across her chest. "Just so you know, those were very much in fashion a few years back. Among adults. Which means that I'm the trendsetter."

Sensing that they was starting bickering over trifles, Finn slid himself in between the two. "Okaaaayyy, babe, you said you wanted to look around after the rounds, right? So why don't you start already?" He turned around to face Puck. "Dude, no need to get on her nerve!" It was bad enough that his wife easily got emotional recently and hard for him to coax her up. "Those look cute on them."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Mini Berry, yes. Old Berry, no." He insisted, fully preparing himself for Rachel's retort.

Finn shook his head and dragged his wife and his daughter in the direction where their families were standing, out of the corner of his eye, Mercedes smacked the back of Puck's head.

Rachel sighed, allowing her husband to tear her away from her cousin, but a small smile crept to her lips as she glanced over the packed floor.

Bittersweet, thinking back of her days working at _The Musicraker_, and of the fact that the magazine didn't exist any more. Yet, it was indisputable for them to open the door to success in their own way, even though they all had been compelled to cave in from Sue's ruse in the face of it.

They were a real family now, a tight knit one. And each of them had found their love of their lives.

Sometimes when she woke up in the middle of the night and looked down at her husband, she wanted to cry; how happy and lucky she was.

So, yeah, she definitely couldn't be happier more right now.

* * *

><p>Having made the rounds, Rachel finally got to look at the enlarged photographs one by one.<p>

Rachel giggled as she stopped in front of the one in which 31 weeks pregnant Tina (carrying her second son, Samuel) and 18 weeks pregnant Mercedes (carrying James) were face to face, laughing but crying at the same time. She remembered the day of the shoot; they had exchanged the stories of their husbands' lack sensitivity, which, _thankfully_, had traumatized Finn's mind (Rachel 8 weeks pregnant at that time).

Rachel widened her eyes as she cornered towards the last picture to see. It was of her and Audrey (still in her belly). She was commentating on a picture after a picture of Koudelka's _Exiles_ for the baby, instead of reading something else or singing.

"It's Mommy!" Audrey cried out from behind.

"And you too, in my belly." Rachel smiled as she turned around to see her daughter in her father's arms.

"Really?" Audrey's eyes sparkled, oblivious to the photographs of pregnant Rachel which she had seen so many times (she'd never seen this big enlarged one).

"Hmm-hmm. 38 weeks years old." Rachel remembered. She remembered that Finn had laughed at her _so hard_ as she had comfortably sat on the couch with the photo book in front of her belly, her legs on the coffee table.

"Daddy, close, close!" Audrey demanded for him to get closer to the photograph.

Finn stepped forwards the photograph and stopped beside his wife. "Max's got me one in advance." He handed a copy of his second photography book out to Rachel.

Knowing already the photograph was in _that_ blank page, Rachel slowly flipped through it. The dedication '_To my moose and baby one_' was above the 8x8 picture.

Rachel clutched the book onto her chest as she looked up at him with watery eyes. How hard he had laughed at her at that time, or even when they were in the middle of a fight, he never failed to portray his love for her in his photographs. She always felt his hands caressing her cheeks or her body enveloped by his large frame when she saw them.

"I love you, Finn. And thank you."

Finn draped his empty arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side before dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "I love you, too, babe. And thank _you_."

"Guys, everyone's waiting outside." Carole called out to let the three know the time to head for the family dinner before approaching them.

Audrey automatically stretched her arms out to her grandmother. Once she was secured in Carole's arms, she proudly announced. "Nana! Look, it's Mommy and me!"

"I know. It's a beautiful picture, isn't it?" Carole responded.

Audrey frantically nodded in agreement. "Mommy is pretty."

"She is. Very pretty." Carole affirmed before turning to face Audrey's parents. "We're going outside on ahead." She mysteriously winked at Rachel and walked away from the two.

Once Carole and Audrey were out of her sight, Rachel turned in his arms. "I have something to tell you." She started.

Finn raised his eyebrow as he looked down at her.

"I, Rachel Barbra Hudson, am going to sleep on my back–"

"You've got sick of–"

"–in near future."

Finn stopped in mid sentence as he realized her implication. "Oh." He studied his wife's face. "Are you?"

"Yes, I'm pregnant, Finny." Rachel confirmed.

"Oh my God," Finn hugged her tightly before planting kisses all over her face. "How many weeks are you?" He asked as he finally broke from the kisses.

"The doctor said about 8 weeks." Rachel leaned against his chest. "But don't laugh at me when I become big and open your second book for our baby." She warned (she would never let her belly to see his first one because she thought that it was inappropriate for babies).

Finn chuckled. "I'm not making any promises that I can't keep." He earned a slap on his chest. "Okay, I'll try. Now let's get going, they're waiting. Shall we?"

Rachel let out a content sigh and nodded.

She felt that she was the luckiest girl in the world. She appreciated every moment of every day with Finn. And now with their two kids (and Delka, of course).

The memories were flashing before her eyes. Someday, he would come back. Someday, they could start over. Someday, she would go back to New York. Someday, they would live happily ever after.

But no more someday.

Their someday was now. And ever.

**Fin.**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that's a wrap! Now I can focus on 'Who's the Next Door?' and one-shot. Thank you again! Have a Happy New Year to everyone!**

**Please review :)**


End file.
